Spiders and Lizards and Goats, Oh My*

Ohainga, Namibia (not quite Oz, but magical and terrifying all the same)

So I arrived safely in my village after a very long day of travel. My principal arrived at the drop point 45 minutes after everyone else left, so I practiced my patience (apparently the most important virtue in Namibia) and talked with the police a little, caught up on some reading. On the way we stopped about 5 times to do various errands, also apparently a common thing in Namibia, including visiting a lottery machine and stopping for directions (I was taken part of the way by a relative of the secretary to my school).

My apartment is small, but nice. I quickly unpacked things and made it quite homey if I do say so myself. I have hung maps and pictures and have become very innovative when it comes to kitchen utensils since I only have plastic knives, forks and spoons, one pot, two ceramic mugs and a few tupperware containers. The leatherman has come in handy (thank you Dad for taking care of that).

When I arrived I met the two teachers who live next door. I was surprised to learn they were males, but I am quickly learning that this could be a great advantage. They know how to use the gas tanks for the stove and how to kill spiders. Which brings me to the teachers' first impression of me...

Almost immediately upon arrival I was confronted by the nature of Africa. I was in my room staring at all my things and the unofficial greeting committee (two of my female colleagues came to greet me, which I found extremely nice and calmed my nerves a bit) when I spotted a very large spider out of the corner of my eye. He was hanging out just above the curtain rod, looking very menacing. I'm not sure I can fully express how scary this spider was. He had very long pointy legs and a flat body. I am pretty sure it is a wall spider, which I have been told a few times, by a few different people, are harmless. However, at that moment I just freaked about having the spider on my wall just looking at me. So the guys tried to kill it, but they are speedy little suckers and he dodged the broom just enough to fall off the wall, injured, but still mobile, and run into one of my bags. So they hunted him down, killed him and left me to fend for myself.

All was fine until I went to go take a much needed shower at the end of my unpacking. There, sitting on the wall, was another one, this one definitely scarier than the last since I knew he was living behind the broken tiles on my shower wall. Trying to hit him with a broom proved fruitless, and only caused greater frustration when I accidentally smashed a tile on the floor and had to clean that up.

At this point I actually almost considered not taking a shower, but the idea of crawling into bed sweaty and gross was worse than having to face the spider. So I showered, but never did I turn my back on the tile I suspected him to be under. I have a terrible feeling he is just lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to pounce on me while I'm shampooing my hair. I suppose I will just get used to him.

Hygiene ties in perfectly with the story of the goats. Today after school I decided to try and finally rid my white pants of the terrible orange stains caused by my efforts to try and rid them of coffee and dry them quickly using my brand new orange towel. It was an extremely ingenious thought, until it just wasn't. So I went out back to my laundry sink to try and bleach the pants (which worked by the way, YAY!) and I'm busy scrubbing away when what should just meander by but a few goats. I am not sure how they got into the school yard, but I do know both our gates are open, giving them the perfect opportunity to find some unsuspecting American girl by surprise. I felt like I was a part of Little House on the Prairie but with better clothes.

So the goats walk through the backyard, I told them just to go on their merry way, that's right, I talk to the goats. And then I realize, goats are like bad children that get out of your eye line because you told them too and wreak havoc on everything and everyone. I peaked my head in to my back door, and sure enough the goats are on my front porch looking in longingly at the shelter my apartment would offer from the sun. So I start walking through and two of them have stopped to have a headbutting contest on the porch. I shooed them away and they wandered out our gate and back around the school.

Soon after this I was sitting at my desk and saw something quickly moving across the floor. I have become used to the size and speed of the cockroaches that are constantly walking around, and this was different. I look toward my bed and what do I see but a little lizard hanging out by the leg. However, he ran away quickly when I moved toward him. I managed to find him under the large box I have in my room, but he escaped again and I have a feeling he is in the closet hiding in my shoe. Jocie recommended I call him Carlos, which I feel is an acceptable lizard name. I want to make him my pet and have him eat all the yucky bugs, namely the mosquitoes...which oddly I have not seen many of tonight. I know when I turn out my light to sleep I will hear them buzzing ready to bite.

Someone told me the creatures in Africa were exotic, but I was counting on giraffes and elephants. I suppose I'll settle for my house pets.

Peace, love and giraffes,
Jenn

*Although this is a completely fitting title to this post, it is also a nod to the card I opened this very morning from my wonderful NRLP. She is my Glinda, bringing home just a little closer with each envelope.