Sunday in Omege
1 December 2002
Omege
On Saturday, we were supposed to go visit the king of Owamboland (the
Northern region that we're in). However, when we all showed up at his homestead
at the appointed time, he was not there. He had gone to Windhoek for some
emergency meeting. I was hoping to have something interesting to
write about
that, but no. When we got home we told our Tate about the unsuccessful visit. He
said, "aahh, the king, he is a very fat man. I do not like fat people.
Maybe there is something wrong with him, I don't know." I originally wasn't
disappointed about not meeting the king, but now I am. He would have been the
first fat Namibian I've seen. Here, people's knees are the widest part of their
leg. They are very thin. Some of the older people are less thin, and a few tates
even sport beer bellies as a sign of their wealth.
Today was Sunday. Sundays in Omege are long days. There is really nothing to
do. After these two years, I think I will forever and always feel lucky to by
busy - to have things to do. The six of us in Omege decided to be bored
together, so we went to the green Cuca shop (about a 40 min walk for us.)
Because it has rained nearly every night for about 4 days, there were many
Oshanas. The oshanas are huge puddles, or shallow lakes, that form during the
rainy season. We heard about these before we saw them, and people described them
as if they formed in prescribed, contained places and served some sort of
practical purpose. In reality, they tend to form in the "road" (the
tracks through the sand that the cars drive on) and on the paths. Anand's
compound is entirely enclosed by these oshanas. Maybe no man is an island, but a
homestead can be. Omege is really beautiful with water everywhere - it even
looks like a place where people might want to live. Until the mosquitoes come
that is.
So we spent our day sitting on the porch of the Cuca shop, drinking cool
drinks, playing cards, and watching the people and goats go by. Occasionally,
someone would come and introduce himself to us, comment about the weather being
nice, and then we just stare at each other awkwardly for a while. It would seem
there is nothing to talk about except your own name and the weather. Life is too
simple here. The only other variation is "where are you going" or
"where are you coming from" - but since we were pretty stationary
objects at the Cuca shop, those questions were eliminated.
We met a person claiming to be "The Headman" 3 times today. The
first time, about noon, he was drunk already, and he greeted us while we were on
the gravel road. He was wearing boxer shorts and a sweater (you have to bundle
up when the temp reaches 70F here apparently - everybody had coats and sweaters
on.) He kept saying "The weather is nice, the weather is very
nice"-etc. The other two times, he was drunker and even happier about the
fine weather.
Later, just as we were about to leave, an old man wearing a bright yellow
rain suit, an over-sized cowboy hat, and large red sunglasses greeted us. He
spoke some English, but it was still hard to know what he was saying. He was
carrying an empty whiskey flask and a bag of cooked omacaroni with ketchup. He
would talk to us a bit, then dance away, then come back, talk to us, dance away.
Very strange. We tried to escape once again, only to return after they shouted
at us that he bought a coke for us. So we went back and drank the coke with him.
Then he said "sing song" again and again. So we sang "Row your
boat". As soon as the coke was gone and he danced back inside, we ran. Just
when you think you've seen it all, this happens. We walked home to the sound of
distant thunder.
Our neighbor, who is also the principal of the school we train at, has just
had 40 of his goats die, somehow from the rain. So there is a big pile of dead
goats at his house, which he is selling to people in the village, presumably
before they go bad. Our family bought one. So now they are carving up the dead
goat in our kitchen. Of course. Oh, just now Desheshe walked in with the goat
brain in a bag. Does it get any better than this?
Love, Sera
click here for more photos of Omege
