Life on the Farm: Rural Homestay Week!

After a long drive from Windhoek through miles of highway and deserted roads, we finally reached the town of Khorixas. Driving through the town we saw lots of shops, grocery stores, street vendors, children, and lots of donkey carts, which are a primary mode of transportation throughout the area. After we passed through Khorixas we drove about ten minutes to the first farm where we would drop off 7 students from our group. As we pulled up to the farm I was so incredibly nervous but also bubbling over with excitement. I knew this next week would be completely different from the way we usually live but I also knew it would be an amazing learning experience. After driving through the farm and dropping everyone off one by one I saw the excitement in the faces of the families as the van arrived. We drove about fifteen more minutes and we arrived at Navareb Post Farm, the place I would call home for the next week.

The farm was very big and filled with lots of hot sand and the occasional patch of trees for necessary shade. Small houses and shacks that were all made of aluminum, bricks, stone, cement, and cow dung were scattered around the farm. I was the last person to be dropped off so I got to see the whole farm which was full of goats, chickens, cows, and donkeys roaming around the land and lots of smiling families greeting the visitors. Dani, a fellow student on my trip, was placed at the house right next door to mine and our families were basically merged as one for the week. It was nice to have the company of Dani and we were very lucky to have such a welcoming family. I lived in a stone and cement 3 room house with my Oma (grandma) Maria, 19 year old sister Mensia, 4 year old brother Kwenkwe, and 3 year old sister Serena. Dani’s mother was one of the children of my Oma and she lived with her 21 year old son Ivan and 11 year old son Franz. We spent all of our time together cooking, cleaning, resting, gathering water, and talking about our lives comparing stories from the farm and the United States. In class for the past couple of months we had been learning the Damara language also known as Khoekhoegowab where there are a series of four different clicks incorporated into words. It was extremely difficult to learn and very hard to master the different clicking sounds with your mouth. Luckily, my family was very open to helping me learn more and the second day they sat with me and we taught each other more Damara and English words. My host sisters and brothers who were 19 and 21 were the only ones in the houses that knew how to speak English. My Oma was too old and had been on the farm her entire life without learning English. I was happy that we were still able to communicate in other ways and through translations. She was an incredibly wise soul with so much knowledge about the farm and many skills that she had developed over the years. It was miraculous what we were able to learn from each other and communicate even though we knew so little of each other’s languages.

My house on the farm complete with chickens!

A typical day on the farm would include waking up around 6 or 7 when the sun rose and starting a fire for the morning tea. Some mornings I would wake up and receive a small bucket filled with warm water to wash my face and take a quick sponge bath before starting the day. I would sit by the fire with my family while we drank our tea and ate breakfast, which was usually some type of oats or cereal. After breakfast we would usually take a walk to the “watering hole” which was a spigot that the farm would use to get their water for drinking and cooking. We would fill up lots of buckets and jugs and make the walk back to our house. My Oma amazed me with her ability to carry 50 pound jugs on her head and gave her tons of credit when I tried and couldn’t make it back to the house. We would also spend time taking walks around the farm and visiting other families. We played cards and other games with the children or sat, talked, and drank tea with the parents. Lots of other time was spent relaxing, reading, or napping under the trees in front of our house in the sun. Farm life seemed very, very relaxed. It was super enjoyable after feeling so busy and cooped up in the house back in Windhoek for the past couple of weeks.            

One morning my host sister told Dani and me that we were going to another house on the farm to do something traditional. I figured it would be something with dressing us up or learning songs or dance but instead we walked to a house with a wheelbarrow full of cow dung, dirt, and water in it. They mixed it all together and then told us we would be repairing a fence outside the house with cow dung. Cow dung is a popular building material in the area and when mixed with dirt and water it makes great cement. We had to stick our hands right in and spread the mixture all over the fence. If you didn’t think about what you were sticking your hands into and just did it, it wasn’t bad at all! It was amazing how well the mixture stuck to the fence and created a new and sturdy building material. I can now say that I helped to build a fence out of cow poop! Not many people get to say that! I also witnessed my host brother catch a chicken and wring its neck right in front of me. My Oma then boiled water and poured it on the dead chicken where we all helped to pick off the feathers. Soon, Oma Maria was digging into the chicken with a knife and preparing it for our meal. It was incredible, and I must admit a little nauseating, to see all of this happen right in front of me and know I was going to have that chicken for dinner later. Every part of the chicken was used, even down to the feet and the head which were delicacies for the young children.

Everyone crowding around the dead chicken to prepare it for eating

Yes, this is me holding cow poop.

At the end of the week, I found that I had bonded with my homestay family more than I expected. We were able to sit together without any distractions and just talk and share stories. It was very interesting having host siblings my age that I could talk to about relationships, education, job opportunities, and other social activities of young adults in Khorixas. My 19 year old host sister was pregnant and opened up to us about what this meant at her age and how at first she faced some discrimination in society. It was interesting to compare these views to similar things that young pregnant mothers faced in the US as well. I learned that I did not need all of the internet, TV, phones, Facebook, Twitter, and email that so heavily absorb our everyday lives back at home. In fact, I hardly thought about not having them and it did not bother me as much as I was expecting it to. It was refreshing to not have to worry about checking my email, keeping up with deadlines, or staying in touch with people back home for once. While I did miss my daily emails with my mom (Hi Mom!), it was nice to find other ways to entertain myself and spend that time bonding with family members while learning about the Damara culture on the farm.

The final day on the farm came too quickly and Dani and I were the last ones to be picked up by the CGE van. It is not possible for me to explain all of the feelings I had at this moment or even capture what the week meant to me in a blog post. When the van pulled up, I was busy playing with Serena and Kwenkwe in the sand, running around and playing tag. I didn’t want to believe that the time was actually here and face the fact that I would probably never be able to see this people again in my life. It is strange to only spend one week with a family, get so close with them, and finally feel at home on the farm and then have to leave knowing that it may be the last time you ever see them. Serena jumped into my arms as Kwenkwe ran towards the van. Our belongings were immediately packed onto the bus and I started to cry. Those of you that know me understand how emotional of a person I am and goodbyes are never easy for me. Hugs were exchanged, thanks yous were given, and we were loaded onto the bus for our trip to Etosha National Park, the next stop on our journey. As we were leaving the farm, the bus chatted loudly about their final days with their families but I felt distracted by the fact that it was really over. It didn’t feel real and I kept thinking I would be going back after a day of speakers and lectures.

With the goats at the water station

My two adorable host siblings

One of my favorite activities=pulling children around in a suitcase

My babies

Dani and Kwenkwe being adorable

Me and Franz!

My bedroom

So adorable!

Even though it is unknown if I will ever see my homestay family again, I know that I will never forget what they taught me throughout the week. Despite language barriers and cultural differences, I was able to learn so much about Damara culture and life in rural Namibia while even learning a lot about US culture and myself personally. I think about my homestay family a lot and whenever I get stressed about school or home life I simply sit back, take a moment to breathe, and remember how wonderful I felt just laying under the beautiful Namibian sky or running around laughing with the kids on Navareb Post Farm. It was definitely an experience I will never forget and it is impossible to explain how I truly feel about it in this simple blog post. 

Dani, our Oma, and me!

With my adorable host siblings who I miss so much!