On my computer at work, in the budget office of Chicago Public Schools, my screensaver has a dozen of my favorite pictures from Namibia on it. A stunning Namibian sun sets over the semi-arid savanna. One of my favorite students, who taught my Oshivambo, looks up smiling from a test that he made me take. My portly principal watches a volleyball game, shading himself under a parasol while wearing a Chicago Cubs t-shirt.
I've been looking longingly at these pictures for the past two years, particularly after a snowy year in Chicago crunching out a budget with a $370m deficit. But it makes me wonder -- was my experience there as great as I remembered?
Earlier this week, I was chatting with my neighbor Katie Green, a returned Peace Corps volunteer from Cameroon. She told me that her group of volunteers recently had a reunion, and they looked at old slideshows of their years in Africa. "If Cameroon was really like the pictures we had," Katie observed, "then it was awesome. But you know, while you remember the market fondly, you forget how it was full of mud, and crappy food, and poor, desperate kids." As the years go by, it's only too easy to remember the good experiences and minimize the bad ones
Later that week while walking down the street in the midst of a hot spell, the pungent odor of summer garbage wafted by. Usually, this would remind me of why I don't like big cities. This time, however, it reminded me of a low patch of ground in Outapi where the rains collected, garbage stewed, and insects swarmed. And that whiff then reminded me of lonely hours alone in my room, a deep longing for friends and family, and stultifying heat in the summer. Were my glasses not a faint rose, but a ruby red?
I suppose I'll find out tomorrow, when I fly from Johannesburg to Windhoek. My girlfriend Carolyn and I will land mid-afternoon, after having spent two good days in Jo'burg with my friend Steve. We'll first spend a couple of days in the capital, catching up with old friends and former students. Then we'll have a week as tourists. We'll visit the coast, followed by a long hard drive to see some ancient cave paintings, and a visit to the Himba, Namibia's most remote people. Finally we'll end up back at Canisianum, where I'll visit with old students and colleagues and set up the Canisianum Scholarship fund.
I'm excited, but also nervous: Was Namibia as wonderful as I remember? Have I changed to a point where I may not fit in anymore? Nothing will remain exactly as it was several years ago, so will these changes be for the better or for the worse?
I'll find out tomorrow.
