End of PST & Swearing-In

As of Thursday I will officially swear-in as a Peace Corps Volunteer. We’ll return to Kukuri Center where we first started our two-month training for a three-hour swearing in ceremony that will feature speeches in target languages, cultural dances, and speeches from our Country Director and the US Ambassador. We’ve spent the past two months in bubble – now they’re popping it. As we take our oath, swearing allegiance to both the United States and the people of Namibia, we solidify our commitment as Volunteers. For me, in some ways, this is a dream realized. The privilege of serving my country in this way has become increasingly clear to me over the past two months. I am proud to be representing America and proud that America has chosen me as one of it’s representatives.

Photos from Swearing-In

From left to right: Dan, Me, Oskar, Zach, Bryan

From left to right: Kaitlin, Me, Oskar, Janet, Zach, Bryan

From left to right: No shot

Saying goodbye to Okahandja will have its difficulties, though. The PC trainers here have become some really close friends. They are extremely hard working people who have sacrificed a lot of their lives to come teach a group of Americans about their country. Imagine taking a 3-month position with the objective of teaching a swarm of foreigners the details of American culture without making sweeping generalizations and avoiding using the phrase it depends. Sound like a challenge? Add in the difficulty of being away from your family and friends because you are living in a homestay that is likely many hours away from your hometown. Without the hard work and genuine passion of these trainers, we’d be shipwrecked volunteers floating on a raft of assumptions in a storm of cultural confusion. Sharing and exchanging has made for some unique friendships with the training staff. I hope to stay in touch with many of them. But, as many of them continuously remind me, I’ll likely see many of them as they visit me in Swakopmund.

Parting from my host-family will be tough too. I’ve been lucky to have the textbook experience. I can honestly say that I am leaving them with no complaints and gratitude that seems impossible to repay. In the past few weeks we’ve all let our guards down a bit. I’m able to act like a fool, discuss my frustrations, make jokes, or just relax. And I see them doing this more too. We have become less “host-family” or “trainee”, and more human. I can see their personalities shine through. And it’s refreshing. This last week especially, my brother Johnson has had me in tears. He just clowns around with Ouma and the two of them go at it. They can be themselves. They can be family. The other night, Ouma was giving Johnson a hard time because he was monopolizing the TV remote, as he tends to do, to watch WWE. After yelling at him for a bit saying that the news takes priority, she was silent. Fifteen minutes into the fight, one of the fighters was dramatically knocked to the ground. Rolling my eyes, (but not removing them from the screen) I hear Ouma yell, “STAAN OP! STAAN OP!”. She had picked a favorite. And he was leaving. And I was dying of laughter. What a sight. She noticed me laughing, looked at me, and began to laugh too. I was in stiches, man. Early on, I felt there could have been a filter. But the more they call me family and the more they act like it, the harder it is to deny. This is my new family. I feel it. I really do.

But I don’t think that ends with my departure. I know they’ll visit me and that I’ll be back to see them. I’ll take with me from Okahandja a new family, a belly full of PB&J, a killer t-shirt tan, and a head full of theoretical development, technical, and language lessons. Off to Swakop, where I’ll start work for the Chamber of Commerce and Industry. My job will consist of working with the Chamber and my counterpart to connect business resources in the community. Through trainings, consultations, and creativity, I’ll look to assess the business climate and the needs of my community. If it sounds theoretical, that’s because at this point it has to be. If I knew exactly what I had to do in my community before I got there, I’d be doing it wrong. But what I do know is that for me to be effective in my community, I need to first understand it.

The next step of service is what Peace Corps calls Phase 2. This will last until my group has our re-connect in 2 months. At the beginning of December we will meet up to review our first months at site. So until then, I’ll be tasked with a technical book report – read, analyze, and summarize my community by communicating with every relevant subset of people. I’ll also look to continue practicing my Afrikaans. It’s a language I’ve really grown to love. It’s creative and exciting.

Some might suggest that true service begins Thursday. As I hop on my transport to my new community and say goodbye to the Peace Corps as I know it, I’ll start my new life. I’ll say goodbye to my new friends and hello to my new friends. Thursday will be the end and the start. It will also be the start and the end. A clear divide exists. Manufactured or not, there is an official oath taken, and a new title assigned. I welcome this transition, as it does not much feel like one. Just another step. Isn’t that how steps work though? When your hands are full and your sight is blocked and a staircase approaches, you only need to find the first. Then your body knows. It trusts that gravity, physics, and geometry are all working in your favor. And unless the stairs are unevenly built, you find your way down those stairs without a hiccup. Lets hope my stair builder was a gifted one. I trust the next step is there, but have no idea where its bringing me.