SORRY FOR THE DELAY

OK so this a catch-up on the past...four days? My laptop hasn't been connecting to the wireless network here, so I've been waiting to use MaryBeth's laptop (MaryBeth is the woman who I am staying with, and the woman in charge of the Bernard Nordkamp Center). (AND sorry this is so long, you can stop if you get bored...)

So...Monday- Mom, Dad, and Gen drove me to JFK. I had a large duffel packed with soccer cleats for the kids. It was extremely heavy, but we really had no idea how much it weighed until we put it on the scale. It was 61 pounds, and the limit is only 50. The lady kept telling us that she really couldn't let that pass, and that maybe if we could get the weight down to 55 lbs she would let it go. We let her know that the bag was full of shoes for AIDS orphans. Eventually Dad and I just opened the bag and took three pairs of shoes out, and the weight went down to 57 lbs. She was EXTREMELY nice about it and let us leave it at that. We just threw those three pairs out. Luckily, my suitcase was 49 lbs. Then Mom, Dad, and Gen wanted to be at the gate with me, and so they needed gate passes. The woman told us she could only give us one, she even double checked with her supervisor. Then Dad told her that he would just buy three fully-refundable tickets, and she felt so bad that it stupidly had to be this way that she left and talked to another supervisor and was able to just give us the passes.

We were at the gate for maybe a 1/2 hour when they called up my name. There was six year old kid traveling alone and so they just basically put me with him. During good-byes, Mom cried (expected) and Gen didn't want to hug me (expected), and Dad took tons of photos (expected). Anyway, they changed my seat so that the kid and I would be together in the last row of the plane. HE WAS HILARIOUS AND SO ANNOYING. He was flying to London to meet up with his Uncle and mother. His English name is Daniel, but his mother is Nigerian, and so his Nigerian name is Touyxv. Talk about all the most uncommonly used letters in one name...Anyway, he's from Galway, Ireland. When I called him Daniel, he told me to call him "boy" because that's what his "uncs" call him. And then he pointed to an Orthodox Jewish man, and told me that he was ALWAYS on his flights. It was hysterical.

It was -85 degrees up in the air.

I landed at Heathrow in London around 6am on Tuesday. The stewardess who had been in charge of me and Daniel made us wait for everyone else to get off the plane, and then handed us over to two escorts. One of them was for Daniel, and the other for a woman in a wheel chair. They asked me if I knew where to go, and I said yes (I looked up the terminals before leaving), and told them I was going to terminal one. They asked what airline, and I told them British Airways, and one of them told me that British Airways was actually terminal four. Stupidly, I listened to her and the people at terminal four told me to go to terminal one. STORY OF MY LIFE. moral? Katrina is ALWAYS (usually) right. Anywayyyyy it was such a hassle because at Heathrow you have to get on a bus to switch terminals. As the person letter-goer-counter man was letting people walk into the bus, he stopped right after me. It must have been a sign, because I really didn't have any other mishaps after that. When I got to terminal one and past security, I walked into the main concourse and tried reading the departure sign...and this is when I realized that they don't tell you the gate number until 30-40 minuted before boarding time. So I found a seat and watched Monsters, Inc. on my ipod. After that I got up and went into a toy store, and looked at the clock and realized that I still had ten hours to kill. I walked to another bunch of seating and took a nap. That's how the rest of the day went; walked around, moved to a different area, napped, new seats, napped. Finally at 6:50 my plane started boarding. No one asked me if I was a minor traveling alone or anything. There was a woman on the plane who looked like Jane from Tarzan. I was originally in a row of three seats by myself, but some woman had leg problems and needed my isle seat, and some other guy just didn't want to sit in the back of the plane. So unfortunate. THEN they gave us socks! It was amazing to wear clean socks. And the pillows were hot pink. So cool. After we took off I watched Hairspray since I hadn't seen it yet. The food was edible, at least the bread tasted like bread. And I decided that first class should not be at the front of the plane, because it's complete torture having to walk past the huge seats (on this flight beds!). The stars were incredible! The flight was 10sih hours and I probably slept for seven or eight out of that (even after napping so much in the airport). The sunrise was also really nice, and the views over Africa were amazing. Right before landing, one of the male flight attendants came up t me and asked if I was alone. I said yes, and after we landed, there was this whole to-do about where my unaccompanied-minor papers and forms were, even though I told them that I didn't have any. It worked out in my favor, because this really nice woman walked me to the Air Namibia desk and helped me get checked in. There was still confusion because they were still trying to find my non-existent papers. I ended up being taken to the British Airways lounge! Free food, drinks, internet, not to mention amazing decor and beautiful bathrooms! (SO weird...in Africa, righty-tighty, lefty-loosy does NOT exist...on faucets, jars, etc.). Anyway, I got on one of their complementary desktops and sent an email to Mom and Dad letting them know that I had handed in Jo-Burg. Then guess what I did? walked around, slept, took some pictures, slept, and then got on my next plane.

The clouds were outrageous on the way to Windhoek. Like, looked like heaven amazing. I got off the plane and went to customs, and I was sure I would be totally interrogated, but the woman didn't say a word and just stamped my passport and let me go. Then I got a luggage cart and I was able to wheel the 106 pounds all by myself! Then I met up with Ger and Jose Kegge, whose house MaryBeth was house sitting while they vacationed in Asia. Luckily for them (even though MaryBeth never told them that I'd be meeting up with them...) I had MB's phone number and so when she was running late we called her. She picked us up in the bakkie (pick-up truck thing) which belongs to the Kegges and was loaned to MB while they were away. They all had so much to check in about; the dogs, the house, the enormous amount of mail she picked up for them, how the bakkie got broken into, and the New Years eve party MB threw at their house. While driving from the Windhoek airport (which is totally in the middle of nowhere, like not even close to the city ) to MB's house, we passed the "rich" area and then downtown Windhoek. The apartheid here only ended fairly recently. There is no public transportation in Windhoek other than taxis because the rich Europeans (mostly German) didn't want the black population to be able to ride into their neighborhoods. The unemployment rate is 80% here because during the apartheid blacks were not allowed promotions, and many store owners won't hire because when they do, the employee, in many cases, will do no work or not show up, and if fired, can bring the case to court and argue discrimination or hardship due to loss of employment. If the employee wins, the owner must not only re-hire them, but also pay them for these "hardships" caused. As MB tells me, everything, every single aspect of Namibia is totally corrupt. She gets really passionate when someone mentions things just falling apart here. After we got to her house, we unpacked together (she is done house sitting and living at the Kegge's) and she told me about the situations here. Unfortunately, even the people who work for the NGO just sit around doing nothing, collecting their relatively high incomes.

Even though begging is illegal, MB told me that people often walk up to her and ask her for money. The blacks here have the impression that every white person is rich. MB even got verbally harassed at the pool last Sunday (in front of some of the kids) when she wouldn't give a woman a lift. She called her a bitch, and yelled about how she shouldn't be around the children, and just totally beat up on MB. There is no positive example for the children here; even with the kids at the center. I have never seen children so greedy and ungrateful. In fact, MB has been questioning closing the center down, worrying that she is now doing more harm than good for the kids. They get everything; food, games, toys, computer access, soccer cleats and uniforms, and in some cases, MB personally pays for a child's school tuition and uniform, or for needed medical attention. Yet many of the children- in fact most of the children- still steal things from the center, and from volunteers. In fact, one of the children, whom Erica was very fond of, stole her money while dropping her off at the airport with MB. The kids come up to us in the center and say things like "give me money", "give me fifty cents, you are rich", or if they come after the kitchen closes, they hassle for food, saying that they deserve it, or come to the center with homework and leave if we don't do it for them.There are kids who are 12, 13, 14, who cannot recite the alphabet, teenagers who read at a second grade level- because there is just no motivation. These kids have basically nothing going for them, even thought Catholic AIDS Action pays a. At the start of the center three years ago, MB was sure that she would teach math and reading, but not a single child would work with her. They spend all their time playing games and being ungrateful for what they are given at the center. MB is so unhappy with their attitudes. Of course some children are very helpful, and some are motivated. One fourteen year old girl asked me to teach her to read, and there is a boy who is really passionate about art. But there area maybe 25 kids about of the 150 who really deserve to be at the center, at least in MB's opinion.

Anyway, last night we had cheese burgers for dinner, and Ajay (the greatest Indian man every) made rice. I still couldn't get my computer to hook up to the wireless, so I waited for Suzanne (a senior from Bennington College) to finish up her emails, and then I got online and talked to a few friends, which was nice. I went to sleep around 9:30, and then woke up today around 9ish, and Suz and I walked to the post office and the mall, where the pick-and-pay grocery store is. Its incredible- you walk into the mall, and I swear it looks like any high-end mall in the US. Its crazy! I was really surprised. Like, legit its fancy. Parts of Windhoek are totally like the US. In fact, while we were walking through one of the sidewalks where people are selling things, I could have been convinced that it was Mont Tremblant, Canada. And besides that, the landscape really looks similar to Nicaragua. In place of the volcanoes there are mountains, and the shrubs and surrounding are is basically the same.

Anyway, we came home and had lunch, and then just relaxed until we had to leave for the center. When we got there, MB was already there, breaking up a huge fight between two boys. One of them had just been beating this kid up, totally unprovoked, and it blew up into a situation involving chairs and their fathers and knives...It was an all around bad situation. The worst part was most of the other children saw it as a show- things get exciting when kids are thrown into this imaginary arena of childish-turned-deadly violence. MB went to the police station and filed a report. Oh, that worked well, because the kid came back an hour after he was kicked out of the center. The lack of respect and control is astounding.

Tonight we got home and MB and I (actually just minutes ago) finished up a conversation about all of this.As I said before, she is seriously considering leaving the center, maybe going back to work in El Salvador where people were gracious for help. She blames herself for creating this generation of greedy children in Katutura. At the end of the day at the center (let me mention we stayed an hour late with the kids...) she started handing out "tocks", or cleats, to children who are on the soccer team but don't have shoes. Some of the kids were grateful, just said "thank you Mary," and "good bye Mary, see you tomorrow". One of the girls came inside the room where MB was with the tocks, and immediately said "none of these are my size, none of these will fit me" and when MB told her to try a pair, she responded by showing her foot into the shoe, stepping on the heel, complaining about the size, and then said "Mary, don't you have any pink tocks for me? when is the next shipment of shoes coming? I will wait", meanwhile the shoes would have fit her. After three years of giving, giving, giving, the kids have become dissatisfied with what they do have. MB said that three years ago, if you had given any child a pair of tocks, they would have been jumping over each other to get a pair, and NOW the kids "will wait for the next shipment", wait for MB's friends to send more tocks, better ones will come. It's outrageous.

UGHHHH. Sorry this was so long. I will definitely post every day now so everything isn't totally blurred together.

xoxohopeyoumissme