Week 5: Urban Homestay/Classes

By Michele Poindexter
 

We officially reached the one month of our stay in Southern Africa this week, and the learning hasn’t stopped! The first full week of classes was completed, internships continued, and we were all welcomed into the homes of ten wonderful families during our weeklong Urban Homestay. There is certainly never a dull moment here at CGEE Namibia.

 

My favourite of all puppies!

In Environmental Connections (taught by the first woman in Namibia to manage a national park - how awesome is that?!), we began with an overview of the environmental issues in Southern Africa. These include deforestation, an increase in the urban population, land degradation, wildlife poaching, limited natural freshwater resources, desertification, loss of wildlife habitats, drought, poverty, and pollution. I had two main takeaways from this first class. First, there is a large need for regionally specific public awareness and education about environmental issues. Each region is geographically, climatically, and socially distinct, so a blanket solution would not be successful everywhere. However, the underlying issue of poverty must be addressed before environmental conservation and sustainability can be achieved. If people are struggling to meet their basic needs, considering the environment in their decisions for survival is not going to be a top priority. Second, our world is not isolated. The pollution in the United States, or anywhere in the world, affects Africa, and vice versa. This means that the choices we make every day (that might just be contributing to climate change) do not only affect us - they affect everyone, even on the other side of the world. To solve environmental degradation, all people must make an effort, for we all share one home, one Earth.

 

In Religion class, we learned a bit about the history of Black Liberation Theology, and its role in the United States and Southern Africa. Our conversation also expanded to include other oppressed groups such as the LGBT+ community. During our travels through Southern Africa, many of us have had conversations with folks about their views on the LGBT+ community in relation to their religion, so it was a good opportunity for us to discuss and reflect on what we had encountered compared to our own views.

My wonderful homestay family!!

The greatest part of my week was getting to live with a wonderful father, mother, and brother during the urban homestay. There is no better way to learn about the history and culture of a country than to completely immerse yourself in the lives of the people. I lived in a neighborhood called Khomasdal. During Apartheid, this neighborhood was built to house coloured people, a racial category created by the Apartheid regime. This categorization was meant to enforce the separation and supposed hierarchy of races. Today, Khomasdal is a diverse community, full of neighborly love and adorable dogs. My family and I talked about everything from immigration to the effect the Chinese are having on the country to drugs. I learned some Afrikaan words, learned how to bake some traditional dishes, and played with the cutest puppies on this planet. I am now more confident in fitting into the culture here and gained a wonderful new family - I’d say that was a pretty successful week.

 

I jumped in on the yoga class this week,
and we did some acroyoga!!

Now onto the next adventures!

Week Seven: Nujoma and the Namib

by Lolita Schalekamp and Hannah Johnson

Reflecting back on the week that just ended, we have to appreciate the various ways in which we’re able to learn here at CGEE. This week alone, among many other field trips, we had the opportunity to visit one of Namibia’s most important monuments and think critically about the problematic ways in which a nation’s history can be represented. Before the week’s end, we also got to travel into the world’s oldest desert to learn about sustainable living.

At beginning of the week, our group had the opportunity of visiting the Heroes’ Acre outside Windhoek. This monument honors the heroes and heroines of the liberation struggle in Namibia, and operates for the purpose of “fostering a spirit of patriotism and nationalism, and to pass on the legacy to the future generations of Namibia.” We learned that this site is not only a memorial, but also hosts many events, particularly army demonstrations. Heroes’ Acre currently contains 174 tombs for the courageous men and women in the fight for independence. Not all of the tombs are filled, but as the heroes pass away, spaces will be reserved for them.

One of the questions that arose from our tour was what are qualifications in choosing who gets to be buried at Heroes Acre? As our tour guide explained, the criteria was not always transparent, as many families of leaders in the liberation struggle would like for their loved ones to be buried at the monument. Indeed, this process has sparked controversy within some circles.

Statue of the Unknown Soldier at Heroes Acre

The monument itself consists of a marble obelisk and a bronze statue of the “Unknown Soldier.” Upon seeing the statue, its resemblance to Sam Nujoma is striking. Although our guide stated that the soldier is not modeled after anyone in particular, the statue has come under criticism for being a tribute to Sam Nujoma himself. Since Nujoma is the founding president of the independent nation, along with being the initiator of Heroes’ Acre, this theory seems relevant.

Another one of the group’s iniquities regarded the architecture of Heroes’ Acre. Compared with other monuments in Namibia, the architecture felt foreign. The grandiose nature of the obelisk is characteristic of Stalinist Empire style or Socialist Classicism. After some research, we learned that North Korea was given a N$60 million contract to build the monument. This has rightfully made many ask: where were the Namibian architects in the construction of their ‘national’ monument?

This leads to the next point: the collaboration of world leaders in the struggle for Namibian independence. As a part of Racism and Resistance class, we became increasingly aware of the parallel development of the SWAPO/SWANU political ideology alongside the PLAN military wing. North Korea’s support of the liberation movement is not as surprising as one might perceive. In fact, many communist nations such as the USSR, Cuba, and North Korea contributed aid to the Communist Party in Namibia, which in turn has strong ties to SWAPO’s formation. This could be interpreted as geopolitical strategy of Communist countries in the context of the Cold War, or from the Namibian perspective, a lack of support from international governing bodies such as the United Nations.

Namib Desert Environmental Education Trust (NaDEET)

As the weekend approached, we packed our sleeping bags, lathered ourselves in sunscreen, and trucked our way toward the desert where we had the privilege to stay at the Namib Desert Environmental Education Trust (NaDEET) Centre. NaDEET lies in the dune valley of the Namib Desert and serves as a place for people of all ages, but more specifically school children, to properly practice eco-sustainability. NaDEET is a non-profit, non governmental organization whose mission is to protect the natural environment of Namibia by educating its citizens to practice sustainable lifestyle. We were immediately greeted by the warm sun and soft sand, where we hiked over a few dunes to reach our base.  

Spectacular sand waves in the Namib Desert!

The entire weekend was full of fun and hands-on learning. We discussed sustainable energy and water, where we monitored our water use and discovered that the centre was fueled by solar energy, discussed waste management and nature conservation. Water conservation was one of the largest topics of conversation. It is undeniable that water is the basis of all life on Earth, however Namibia has a limited freshwater supply and labeled one of the most dry countries in sub-Saharan Africa. Being in Southern Africa, we have learned to be more mindful of our water use and waste. NaDEET introduced a variety of ways to reduce our water use, including implementing bucket showers. The bucket showers reduce shower time and water waste. We have returned to CGEE house with the mindset to take shorter showers and investigate what it would take to have dual flushing toilets. In fact, the average toilet flush uses over ten litres of water per flush. If we introduce a low flush or dual flush toilet in our home, we would reduce our water waste by 2-3 liters of water each flush. As discussed at NaDEET, in a five person household, this can lead to saving nearly 200 liters of water per week!

The delicious end result!

Our homemade pizzas cooking
in the solar ovens! 

The true fun began around lunch time, where we prepared food as a community and made homemade pizzas in the solar ovens. The fierce Namibian sun fueled the solar ovens and naturally, eliminates the use of gas, electricity, or wood and produces zero pollution (solar cookers baking our homemade pizzas and the end result shown in the pictures).

After a walking tour of the dunes, observing the tracks and droppings of the diverse ecology and wildlife in the desert, and sand boarding, we finally caught the breathtaking stars!  Namibia’s NamibRand Nature Reserve, which is one of Africa’s largest nature reserves, remains one of the naturally most dark places on Earth. NaDEET aims to protect the environment and educate guests, and this includes understanding how we have contributed to all forms of pollution. Attached is a link shared at NaDEET of a short video called “Losing the Dark” by the International Dark Sky Association regarding light pollution and solutions. https://youtu.be/dd82jaztFIo

CGEE students after a successful evening sand boarding
in the stunning Namib Desert.

Our group was split up along three different houses, therefore when the weekend came to a close we were elated to compare our water and electricity usage with our friends (a good ol’ competition was a great way to spark environmentally sustainable habits!) Upon returning to Windhoek, we reflected on ways we can promote sustainable living but also practicing what we learned. Some are proposing solar cooking to their internships to combat the issue of expensive electric bills as some of us are researching dual flush toilets. The program was the perfect balance between educational and entertaining!

In short, during our visit to Heroes’ Acre and NaDEET, we learned to think critically about issues of memorializing a country’s history, in addition to more contemporary questions on how to build a sustainable and environmentally conscious society. In both cases, there is an inherent politicization that is ultimately involved in the process, whether that be foreign outbidding in the construction of a national monument or access and availability of environmentally friendly practices. As we learned at NaDEET, the only way to truly make a difference as a socially conscious community is to actually practice what we learn; through an increase in knowledge comes a responsibility to create spaces of dialogue that address these issues.

Week Six: Realities of Reconciliation: Acknowledging complicity amidst a deafening silence

by Kitty McGirr & Emily Owens 

Between 1904 and 1908, German colonial forces conducted a massacre of 110,000 Herero and Nama people in Namibia—the scale and sheer brutality of which constituted the first genocide of the 20th century, and the practices of which laid basis for yet another genocide 30 years later in Holocaust Germany. More than a 100 years after this systematic extermination occurred, Germany has only recently agreed to recognize the genocide in a formal admission of historical guilt. 112 years for an apology. 112 years for acknowledgement. 112 years for no trials, no truth commissions, and most pertinently, no reparations for an annihilation order that wiped out 70% of the Herero and 50% of the Nama tribes’ entire populations. Our first speaker of the week, Uruanaani ‘Scara’ Matundu, a local lawyer and scholar on the Ovaherero genocide, shared with us his conviction that reparations remain the most suitable political response to the mass violence perpetrated by the Germans in Namibia. His was an advocacy radically inclusive in nature. Indeed, as a Namibian born in exile in Botswana himself, Scara was keen to underline to us the necessity of justice being instituted to all Herero and Nama people, irrespective of whether they were living in Namibia or were still residing further afield in the countries to which they had been exiled.

Mural displayed at the Independence Memorial Museum
in Windhoek— a space dedicated to the acknowledgement of
Namibian historical events such as the genocide and the
commemoration of Namibia’s journey to independence. 

As it stands, Germany is refusing to enter into discussions about the payment of reparations to Namibia, proposing that it provide developmental aid packages as an alternative form of redress for past atrocities instead. The allure of foreign aid has tended to quell any contributions by the Namibian government in furthering reparation initiatives on the ground due to the widely held belief that demanding redress in any other form would threaten the country’s preexisting dependence on foreign monetary support. To compound this lack of official support on an institutional and governmental level, Scara lamented the distinct lack of white, and specifically German, allyship in his and other Herero and Nama-speaking people’s struggle for economic recompense. I felt especially galvanized by the fact that not one German person sat on the reparations committee with Scara. Namibia, in contrast to its South African neighbor, chose to engage in a policy of silent forgiveness subsequent to the overturning of apartheid. No Truth and Reconciliation Project was conducted within its borders after independence. Instead, the common refrain has been one of unity and forgiveness, of inclusive rhetoric that asserts with the utmost conviction “we are all Namibians now.” Yet in spite of black Namibia’s almost supernatural capacity to forgive centuries of white racial violence, the majority of white Namibians have yet to truly earn that forgiveness by struggling to secure justice for their fellow citizens. I am struck by the audacity of white silence and inaction in the Namibian reparation struggle, but I am perhaps more confounded by the sheer consistency of complicity with injustice that whites continue to exhibit in other global contexts, including that of my own home.

As difficult as it can be to admit, we as individuals grapple with these same issues on a daily basis- and oftentimes, we fail to meet them with integrity. We lie complacent in our circumstances of relative privilege and comfort, while simultaneously remaining complicit as beneficiaries of a network of systems that deny so many others the same comfort we enjoy. Communities in the States, particularly white communities, equally fall into Scara’s categorization of inaction: we deny, we sometimes empathize, but very rarely do we act. What do long overdue reparations for communities of color mean for us on an individual level? What do our claims to support racial equity truly mean if our “support” is contingent on our own sense of security in an unwavering systemic advantage? What effect would recognizing the significance of these reparations for ourselves—to move past denial and empathy, into a trajectory of intentional action and solidarity—have on our communities, our societies, our national and global interactions? And beyond clear instances of marginalization and visibly unjust circumstances, just how often do we commit this disparaging complicity within our everyday lives?

Herbert Jaunch, an active force in the promotion of equity within Namibian trade and labor unions, provided our group with yet another avenue for critical thinking on this topic through his presentation on the influence of Chinese foreign investment on both the Namibian economy and labor force. Jaunch cited numerous instances of unethical wages, exploitative practices, and an overall lack of concern for the wellbeing of Namibian citizens enacted in the name of profit and economic growth. These human rights violations are not unique to the case of Chinese investment; when we choose to examine our own government’s foreign investments and even our individual purchases, we easily uncover an ongoing history of corruption- a history which we continue to write through our everyday capitalistic entanglements. Yet again, we are forced to acknowledge the significance behind our silence—while we can profess our disgust toward injustice and exploitation, we are concurrently supporting corporations and labor practices that drive this inequality through actions as simple as visiting the grocery store. 

So where does it ever end? How can we even begin to detach ourselves from what seems to be an inescapable network of chaos?

The reality of reconciliation is that none of us truly know the right way to reconcile. We glorify the concept of reparation without ever pausing to acknowledge or attempting to repair the broken perceptions that exist within ourselves. It is when we not only recognize, but push forward through our silence that we begin to combat our own complicity—in turn, ultimately coming to terms with the vital role we each must occupy in shaping a more just global society. 

Sources: 

Uruanaani ‘Scara’ Matundu, Namibian lawyer and scholar on the Ovaherero genocide; conversation on September 20, 2016 in Windhoek, Namibia. 

Herbert Jaunch, trade and labor union activist; conversation on September 23, 2016 in Windhoek, Namibia. 

Week Four: Hooked on Windhoek: Introduction to Namibia

by Jeremiah Chamberlin & Hannah Johnson

At the beginning of the week, the CGEE group had the opportunity to engage with students from the University of Namibia (UNAM) in an informal discussion. This became an invaluable experience; for many of us, it was the first time we were able to interact with Namibian peers and dually analyze some the experiences that have shaped our lives as students. The topics of discussion ranged from our favorite hobbies and involvement in campus life, to deeper issues such as racism and discrimination on campus.

One of the topics that emerged from conversation are the barriers to accessing education at the collegiate level. For many of us at CGEE, we echoed the idea that financial considerations present the largest challenge in the United States, compounded by the realities of institutional racism and economically diverse backgrounds. From the perspective of the UNAM students, race did not play as important a role in college choice and acceptance rate. However, they did emphasize the role of the education system in Namibia, especially concerning regions outside of Windhoek. It was surprising to learn that the quality of teachers and curriculums is low in many regions, and this has impacted the demographics of students that attend college. For example, particularly in the Northern regions, teachers are underpaid and schools are understaffed. From both the US and Namibian perspectives, we were surprised on how many similarities we were able to draw between education systems.

On Tuesday, our group spilt into subgroups to explore the various facets that Katutura, a former black township in Windhoek, has to offer. We received itineraries for the day and were accompanied by guides from Young Achievers, a local youth organization. On this ‘Katutura Quest,’ we visited a diversity of both government and non-government organizations and programs that are involved in the community. One such program is the Katutura Community Arts Center, which is open to the public. Within the arts center is the College of the Arts (COTA).

During our tour, we had the opportunity to sit in on a staff/student meeting where the changing financial policies of the college were discussed. Many of the challenges that small colleges face while moving forward are connected to some of the topics we discussed with the UNAM students on Monday regarding education. Among the concerns is the increasing cost of tuition as a government-subsidized college, which has put pressure on many students of low-income backgrounds.

In our interview with Joost Van de Port, head of the Media Department at COTA, he explained that the college and students need be able to gain more agency to receive national recognition from the state. Currently, COTA is not listed under the Ministry of Education, and therefore, not seen as a priority. As Van de Port explains, the college is in the process of gaining status to be listed under the Ministry of Education, which allows greater funding for the college, particularly from the National Arts Council. Van de Port claims that media literacy, particularly under the department of the Media, Arts, and Technology, is crucial for all Namibians to learn. 

Those of us with internships began officially on Wednesday, with a full day at our individual organizations. These included The Namibian Chamber of Commerce, Planned Parenthood, Namibian Women’s Health Network, Friendly Haven (for victims of domestic violence), along with a number of others. Because many of these organizations work with vulnerable populations, these first few days of interning were emotional for some individuals. For a few of us this meant hearing heartbreaking stories of domestic abuse; for others, it means coming face to face with the inadequate funding and understaffing of specific educational institutions. Naturally, it’s not all negative; there are organizations like Sister Namibia which are doing incredible work to empower Namibian women in surprising ways, while simultaneously challenging gender stereotypes. Collectively, these shared experiences are giving us a fuller, more complex understanding of the Namibian story.

One of the highlights of this week would have to be Thursday’s ‘Community Day’, held at the Elisenheim Guest Farm. While we may have complained about waking up early, the day became an insightful opportunity to reflect on our experiences. The day also gave us the chance to get closer to those we are sharing our experiences with, especially other members of the CGEE staff (specifically Evelyn, Jenobie, Sarah, and Passat). Initially playing games like ‘Seven’ (learned from our Katatura tour guides), the day began on a relaxed, informal note. We shared simple secrets about ourselves, like facts about our families or our favorite memories. It was a welcome reprieve from the emotionally intense schedule of Johannesburg. 

Elisenheim Guest Farm on Community Day.
ables are set up for our various identity stations.

However, as the activities progressed, the subject matter became much more personal. Entering ‘identity stations’, individuals were asked to share in small groups their personal feelings on aspects of their identity, such as race, religion, sexual orientation or gender identity, class, and nationality. Many of us were reduced to tears in the process of hearing each other’s deeply held thoughts and emotions, yet the overall sentiment was one of openness and acceptance. 

Friday marked the first day of actual class: Race and Resistance in Southern Africa and the US taught by Albertina. This included a field trip to the Owela Museum, which records the lifestyles, cultures and practices of Namibia’s indigenous tribes. The museum also addresses some of the injustices faced by these groups, like those suffered by the San people. Dubbed ‘Bushmen’ by early German colonizers, members of the San were considered evidence of the ‘missing link’ theory connecting apes and humans. In an effort to record data on what they considered an evolutionarily incomplete group, German ‘scientists’ made molds and casts of San people’s faces and body parts. Skewed information was then published, propagating racist narratives of white supremacy which are sadly still influential even today.

Molds of actual San people created for the Germans'
racist interpretation of the 'missing link' theory.

Despite the tragic reality of colonization and discrimination, the Owela museum remains an important place for appreciating Namibian history and heritage. Named after a board game common among many Namibian tribes (similar to Mancala), Owela stands as both a tangible and symbolic representation of the larger Namibian identity. The shared story of the nation is as beautifully haunting as the unique communal experiences which are braided into its past. As we acclimate ourselves to this new environment, we begin our journey backwards in time to the tumultuous formative age of disillusionment.

Week Two: The Unseen Colors of the Rainbow Nation

by Imani Briscoe & Kitty McGirr

I remember waiting for my flight not two weeks ago genuinely envisioning what this “rainbow nation” was going to look like once I landed in Johannesburg. Now as we conclude our time here in South Africa, I am beginning to appreciate that what lays beneath this widely propagated ideal is much more complex, nuanced and problematic than the romanticized image I and many others with a similarly elementary understanding of post-apartheid South Africa would imagine this so-called rainbow nation to be. 

The varied nature of our activities and conversations on the program so far is indicative of the diversity of views and circumstances among the people of South Africa. However, while at face value this diversity supports the dominant narrative of South Africa as a rainbow nation, upon closer examination one begins to recognize that formerly institutionally separate racial groups are not suddenly coexisting harmoniously with one another now that apartheid has ended. In fact, the majority of what I have seen on the program so far suggests almost the opposite. Rather than achieving real unity and equity in the post-apartheid era, the many colorful identities comprising this so-called rainbow nation seem in some ways to be just as far removed from and unequal to each other as what was previously instituted under the apartheid system.  

In addition, it is very intriguing that, even with the acknowledged importance of the history of South Africa’s “Rainbow Nation”, discussions surrounding the indigenous people and colonization of what is now known as Cape Town rarely occur. Most of what we find in the American education history books regarding the changes Cape Town has gone through seems to focus on the racial issues of blacks and whites.  There is little to no conversation about the people who originally lived, loved and lost before the social constructs of race dominated the historical narratives; narratives such that influenced the process of colonization , which has very much impacted current day Cape Town. This past week we took a walking tour of the city of Cape Town with Lucy and Kadijah from Transcending History Tours, and learned a plethora of information about the way of life before and during colonial settlement and were given an opportunity to discover the untold story of Cape Town’s first people, the khoi-san.

Our tour took us through many notable areas including the first colonial settlement in the area, the Castle of Good Hope, Cape Town City Centre which holds some historic markers pertaining to the slave trade prior to the 1834 emancipation, and the well-known Iziko Slave Lodge which housed slaves from all over the world during the slave trade.

In every building we entered, every short filmed viewed, and every monument we paid respect to, I thought of Cape Town’s historical parallels to what was happening in the United States of America during the same time. It is illuminating to learn that on the other side of the world the same methods of racial division through systematic control and oppression were being implemented. It’s interesting to consider how both regions were shaped by the countless issues that colonization and devastation left behind. As a black American and proponent of black-consciousness, with no known blood relative connections to the Africa as a whole, I, Imani, have heard about the same kind of oppression and slavery time and time again on American soil and therefore felt like I shared a common history with those people who went through the same struggles as my ancestors did, just in another place of the world.

After leaving our homestay families in Soweto, we travelled to the University of the Free State in Bloemfontein, a city traditionally associated with and populated by Afrikaner people. Upon arrival we met with the deputy director of the Institute for Reconciliation and Social Justice, JC van der Merwe for a discussion on the history of the campus as well as the issues facing the institution at present. One detail that I found particularly striking was the fact that no formal pressure was placed on UFS or any higher education institution in South Africa to desegregate their campuses after 1994. In fact, according to van de Merwe, the residences of UFS were still racially segregated as early as 2007. I was moved by this information for two reasons. Firstly, I was immediately reminded of the parallels between South Africa’s failure to desegregate its educational system and the language of Brown v. Board of Education in the US whereby the Supreme Court only required schools to desegregate “with all deliberate speed”. Secondly, I was struck by how incongruous the politicized idea of a rainbow nation was to the reality on the ground in South Africa. Thirteen years after the ANC led the liberation struggle to overturn apartheid, white students at this university were still resisting administration mandates to integrate. 

The last activity for our day at UFS involved taking a tour around campus with two students we had met previously at a group discussion about our respective experiences as university students. One of our tour guides was keen to relay to me her experience being part of the first racially mixed female residence on the campus, which she described as a genuine “sisterhood”. However, the visual landscape of the campus was again at odds with the widely proliferated image of the rainbow nation, the narrative of unified racial integration and even the story my tour guide relayed to me about her mixed residence minutes before the tour began. Walking around the campus I did not see one mixed race friendship nor did I notice any white students present at a growing gathering of protestors demonstrating for higher wages for black workers on campus. Confused at what ostensibly looked like a state of enduring racial separation in the university community, I asked our guide if it was at all unusual that we hadn’t seen any interracial friend groups on our tour. Her response was a disheartening one: “No, it’s not unusual. People still don’t really mix”. These words, for me, were symbolic of the countless discrepancies I have witnessed in these two short weeks here in South Africa with regard to the romanticized ideal of a rainbow nation and the enduring reality of chronic racial inequality in the post-apartheid era.

Week One: Reflections on the Motherland

by Chiara White-Mink & Anne-Claire Merkle-Scotland

Apartheid ended 22 years ago when the first democratic elections were held in 1994, the same year I was born. For a nation that experienced so much horror in throughout apartheid these elections marked a new era of possibility and prosperity. That hope was shared throughout the world, when the message of a newly united nation travelled half-way across the world to the classrooms and schools I attended. However as residents and students in the United States, we should be well aware that change, especially social change, may take years and even generations to truly happen. Therefore, we were exposed to the realities of post-apartheid South Africa and the continuously growing economic challenges and disparities faced by South Africans, particularly the black citizens still facing severe effects from Apartheid.

Apartheid was crippling for black families, communities, and individuals by destroying communities and separating blacks from whites and sending them to specified “townships”areas of land outside of the cities where black people were confined to. Accessing medical care, education, and transportation cost money, and all the resources designated to blacks were far inferior in quality to the resources offered to white people only a few miles away. Blacks could not travel outside of their designated community, as well as work, attend school, or do almost anything without a permit.

Our current educational practices are a reflection of eurocentricity, intrinsically perpetuating the marginalization of communities of color and rendering us invisible in educational spheres. Blackness is positioned as the antithesis to whiteness and is thus implicitly framed as deficient and pathological. This is absolutely not indicative of Paulo Freire’s vision of education as a tool for liberation and social change. Instead, this exhibits an immensely problematic model of education that enables the success of the privileged at the expense of the oppressed. I, unfortunately, was unable to conceptualize my educational experiences as such until I began my collegiate career. I was provided with the space to critically reflect on my schooling, paying close attention to how aspects of my identity (such as race, gender, class, etc.) impacted what privileges and opportunities I was afforded and what I was deprived of. As a Black woman, I was faced with the harsh reality of oppression on the basis of race and gender. The most potent example of deprivation I can think of is the lack of culturally relevant material/the inability of educational spaces to centralize African-Indigenous belief systems as a method to empower students of color and expose white students to an undervalued world view; and subsequently, the expectation for students of color to assimilate to hegemonic notions about success.

Thus, my trip to the continent of Africa signifies my journey to increased critical consciousness, psychological emancipation and self-love, a revolutionary act. Education is intricately connected to our sense of humanity and I desperately sought an educational outlet that not only recognized, but honored my humanity. I concluded that this program attempted to a foster a space grounded in anti-oppressive ideology and actions that reflect intentionality and purpose. The first week of the program was spent in Johannesburg, South Africa where we went on various field trips to become critically acquainted with the country. I was deeply disturbed by the failure of my educational systems to acknowledge the interconnectedness of the struggle for liberation here and in the United States, or rather acknowledge the plight of people of color beyond the United States, period. It is also important to highlight the manner in which information is presented as well. Schools, as I have articulated above, typically convey information in immensely problematic ways (the dominant narrative), often excluding vital narratives and potent perspectives. Thus, I felt beyond privileged to hear about events here in South Africa from the voices of people directly involved, because I know that my educational spaces are lacking. One thing in particular I have been marinating on is the role of ordinary people in worldwide liberation struggles. This stood out to me on our visits to the Hector Pieterson museum and Orange Farm Human Rights Advice Centre. At Orange Farm, we had the opportunity hear from people on the micro level about issues that impacted their community. For once, leaders who rose to national prominence were decentralized and it was more about the work ordinary people are doing to provide for their communities. They actually shared their thoughts on one leader we have all been conditioned to love—Nelson Mandela. I am not attempting to refute his importance or discredit his accomplishments, but I was forced to critically analyze Mandela in a way like never before—in a way that countered the dominant narrative surrounding his political reign. The Hector Pieterson museum was especially interesting because we got to speak directly to Antoinette Sithole, a key player in the June 16, 1976 Soweto Uprising that resulted in the death of her brother. It is about time that we recognize the bravery and resilience of everyday people who are not necessarily internationally known or praised. 

Through visits to communities such as Orange Farm, located about an hour outside of Johannesburg, we saw and heard about the enormous problems within education and employment that poor communities are still facing even 22 years after the country was supposedly desegregated. With little resources offered from the government, schools continue to suffer from overcrowding and lack of materials, while adults and young adults are facing high rates of unemployment and lack of opportunities. Speaking to citizens, we learned how frustrated black South Africans are with the lack of economic mobility since the end of Apartheid. Still stuck in an oppressive and vicious cycle of poverty, many citizens have given up on expecting the government to create real effective change after so many years of what many view as false promises. One of our speakers Molefi Mataboge said it best when he stated “When politicians talk, we must listen not to what they’re saying, but to what they’re not saying.”

Coming to South Africa, I was expecting to see the land of Nelson Mandela and an integrated society somewhat free from the obstructions of apartheid, and constantly moving forward to maintain that promise of democracy shared throughout the world for years after apartheid ended. My experiences this week however showed me how much farther this great nation needs to go to truly see economic prosperity and opportunity for all of its citizens, and the serious changes that need to be made in order to make this happen.

The honorable Steve Biko once said, “The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.” I have recognized that education thus far has been the practice of domination—keeping me ignorant, silent, and perpetuating social inequities. I am here to build upon what I have been unlearning in the U.S. and am ready to take back my mind from the oppressor, by any means necessary.

Week Thirteen: Decolonizing our Minds in the “Little Germany” of Namibia

by Luke Beasley, Olivia Cook, and Siri Ericson

Last weekend was spent in the coastal city, Swakopmund, studying foreign investment, colonialism, and the 1904-1908 genocide. The city provided a stark contrast from Windhoek with its distinctly German colonial architecture, cool and humid weather, and array of coffee shops. Overall, our week was filled with new, challenging, and eye-opening experiences as we toured the Walvis Bay Export Processing Zone, Marine Denkmal monument, NamPort, Namibian Dolphin Project, and more.

Here is the controversial Marine
Denkmal monument commemo-
rating German soldiers who died
during the German colonization.

Our first full day in Swakopmund was spent with the political activist, Laidlaw Peringanda. Peringanda took us to the Marine Denkmal monument, a monument that stands in the center of town commemorating German soldiers who died during German colonization. The statue has been criticized for listing the names of German soldiers that committed atrocities against the indigenous peoples and has recently been doused in red paint symbolizing the blood of the thousands of people that were killed by the Germans. Although Peringanda and other activists have lobbied for its removal, the government and community have remained largely resistant to these demands. Throughout the tour, we were continually reminded of the intricate history between Germany and Namibia and the legacy of colonialism that exists today. As we learned about the brutal colonization and genocide of indigenous peoples, we were uncomfortable watching tourists smile and take photos before these statutes without recognition of the violence and injustices these statues represent. 

In this photo you can see the unmarked gravesites of the
OvaHerero/OvaMbanderu people who died during the genocide
of 1904-1908. In the background you can see houses upwards
of 6 million dollars overlooking the mass graves.

Continuing with our critical, decolonial, activist-led tour of Swakopmund, we walked through the gravesite of thousands of OvaHerero/OvaMbanderu people who were killed in the 1904-1908 genocide. The gravesite was clearly divided between a German gravesite neatly marked with tombstones and flowers and a plot of land where the indigenous people had been buried without tombstones. Te mounds of dirt where people were buried almost a century ago can still be seen. There is one single monument commemorating the OvaHerero/OvaMbanderu people who died under “mysterious circumstances”, signifying the government’s slow response in acknowledging the genocide that took place, and another monument in the corner of the gravesite, as far from the German housing settlement as possible. Walking through the gravesite, we imagined what it would be like to live in German houses upwards of 6 million dollars, built over indigenous land and graves, overlooking the graves of thousands of people who died in the genocide. As ATV’s fly by the gravesite without having to be confronted by an inconvenient history, we wondered how individuals teach themselves about this history, as the history of genocide and colonization is largely erased by the public school system and erased as homes are literally built over mass graves that remain unprotected by the government. 

Here is one of the large cargo
vessels that transports goods
from all over the world. I felt
incredibly small next to its
physical size of the vessel and
global implications of trade.

The next day, we started our foggy and overcast Friday morning traveling to the nearby town of Walvis Bay to visit the management company for the Export Processing Zone (EPZ). An EPZ is a free trade zone where companies are allowed to avoid paying taxes to the government on the condition that they are manufacturing a product and exporting the entire product. The idea behind an EPZ is to bring foreign investment into the country in hopes of developing it more by providing favorable conditions for business investors. While there is significant investment coming into the EPZ, many argue that it only minimally benefits Namibia. Our speaker, Jan Kruger, mentioned the EPZ only creates  300 jobs, and the government receives no money from taxes. Namibia’s high unemployment makes 300 new jobs a positive, but for a project that is supposed to help “develop” Namibia it is relatively insignificant. After the presentation about Namibia’s EPZ we had a tour of Namport, a large port in Walvis Bay where goods are loaded and unloaded from container vessels that travel distances ranging from South Africa to Europe. Something we noticed at Namport was dredging, a process of moving sand from the seabed to improve functionality of waterways for the port’s ships and to expand the port. It was very clear that this was an industrial zone from rows upon rows of shipping containers that are usually unloaded and reloaded onto cargo ships within 24 to 48 hours of arrival. Namport’s physical size is very large, but its influence reaches far into central Africa; many of the goods that pass through Namport are sent to landlocked countries in Africa.

Here is the Namibian Dolphin
project. It is a small little
building on the waterfront in
Walvis Bay near a couple little
shops and a nice cafe. Our
speaker was from Ireland
and has been in Namibia
for a year studying dolphins
and the environment.

After our tour, we enjoyed a walk along a beautiful lagoon and hundreds of flamingos. The lagoon is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, but slightly north is the industrial zone that creates an ugly backdrop unfitting to the natural beauty of the lagoon. While the development does not aesthetically complement the flamingos, it has also harmed the environment and slowly encroached on the Heritage Site. Later when we visited the Namibian Dolphin Project to learn about Namibian dolphins and human impact in the area. For example, we learned about how the constant noise of dredging has harmed the dolphins’ abilities to rely on sound to communicate and hunt. Overall, the day was full of interesting visits and we experienced the juxtaposition between the coast’s industry and nature. We learned about two points of view about industry in Namibia: Economically, the port has provided jobs vital to imports for Southern Africa, but environmentally the industry that is helping the economic environment is damaging the natural one. 

On Saturday, we were given a free day to do what we wanted around Swakopmund. About half the group decided to conquer our fears and go skydiving. It was a nervous twenty minute flight up to 10,000 feet where we were quickly moved to the door with our guide. In a heart-stopping and adrenaline-filled 30 seconds we fell for thousands of feet before our parachute deployed. As the parachute slowed our momentum and we drifted to the ground and were able to fully appreciate the magnificent view that the Namib Desert meeting the Atlantic Ocean provided. It was an incredible ending to a trip that in a few short days gave us so many varied and valuable learning experiences.

Week Twelve: Equal Rights in an Independent Namibia

by: Katie Bosse, Gabbi Mpagi, Lia Wellen

Siri and Gabi being politicians!

The common theme for this week’s classes centered on the question of equal rights in post-independent Namibia. The politics class visited Parliament and discussed gender equality in government, Mr. Ya Nangoloh spoke about segregation and race relations in terms of equality in our history class, and gay rights activist Wendelinus Hamutenya talked about LGBTQI rights in Namibia.

Students enrolled in the politics course had the honor of listening to the brave and beautiful social activist Wendelinus Ndiwakalunga Hamutenya, otherwise known as Mr. Gay Namibia. Mr. Hamutenya shared his struggles and triumphs about finding his identity, promoting equality, and upholding the civil liberties of individuals who identify as LGBTQI in Namibia. Becoming Mr. Gay Namibia opened many doors for Mr. Hamutenya, including an opportunity to participate in San Francisco’s Gay Pride Parade, but unfortunately he experienced backlash from Namibians who weren’t tolerant of his sexuality. Namibia has been recognized as one of the more lenient countries within Africa when it comes to the topic of LGBTQI rights, yet the truth of the matter is that LGBTQI persons are still being denied basic equal rights based on their sexual orientations and or preferences. LGBTQI persons are being ostracized in rural communities, forced into marriages for the sake of reproduction, and are experiencing dangerous acts of violence based in hate by their fellow Namibians as well as government officials. Mr. Hamutenya’s dedication to defying the status quo has had dangerous consequences such as being denied access to public transportation and enduring unlawful arrests by Namibian police officers, but his perseverance has remained resilient. He continues to work towards equality for all Namibians. 

Lia pretending to make a
speech in the speaker’s seat.

This week the Politics & Social Change in Southern Africa class began our day by getting a tour of the Namibian Parliament. We spent some time in the National Assembly. We had fun sitting in the speaker’s seat, and looking at the elegant building. The gardens around and in the center of the Parliament building were also very nice. When speaking about civil rights, or equality amongst the Namibian people, we spoke about gender equality in Parliament and we were able to draw some lines between parliament and inequality in Namibia. In terms of gender equality, the government is attempting to equalize the number of seats that women take to that of men. SWAPO (South West African Political Organization) is the ruling party and takes up the majority of seats in Parliament. They have a system where a woman takes every other seat. There is still a majority of males in government, but the number has improved drastically since independence in 1990. In terms of post-apartheid segregation and inequality, in class our instructor, and a few speakers, has talked about how the SWAPO party, the party who liberated Namibia, is now becoming a sort of oppressor due to the fact that they are the overwhelming majority in Parliament. Mr. Ya Nangoloh, director of NamRights, stated that only the color of the people in charge of Namibia has changed, but many apartheid-like policies are still in place. The fact that opposition parties have very little say in government exacerbates the power that the SWAPO party has and the lack of power that opposition parties have. So, in general, Namibian Parliament is becoming more equal in terms of gender, but is arguably unequal in terms of fairly representing the Namibian people because of the overwhelming SWAPO majority party.

This is an example of the beautiful decorations and architecture
in Parliament. These are the lights in the National Assembly building.

In our history class on tuesday we had Mr. Phil ya Nangoloh visit our class for the second time this semester to speak about the similarities between liberation struggles in Southern Africa compared to the Civil Rights Movement in the United States. As the founder of Namibia’s National Society for Human Rights (NSHR), also known as NamRights, Mr. Nangoloh is an expert in human rights politics and history on the liberation struggle for Namibia’s independence from South Africa. He finds that the situation of apartheid and racial inequalities under the South African government is not a unique case and one can draw several parallels between the regime’s policy of “separate and unequal” in South Africa and the United States Jim Crowism and subsequent New Jim Crowism. Nevertheless Mr. Nangoloh did locate where the two movements differed in nature and strategy, despite having the same overarching goal of separation. Mr. Nangoloh believed there are fundamental differences that distinguish the two movements beginning with the fact that the liberation struggle in Southern Africa was a “violent civil disobedience” against a white minority while the United States’ civil rights movement tended to more of a peaceful civil disobedience against a white majority. Moreover, Mr. Nangoloh made the tactical distinction that during the civil rights movement it was focused on gaining rights for all, while he believed the liberation was more of a fight against colonialism. Finally, he wanted to leave with the class that there is a difference between freedom and independence. For example, Namibia might be liberated from colonial forces legally, but in actuality as Mr. Nangoloh explained, Namibia is still dependent on outside markets that control their major industries such as the fishing and diamond industry. 

The courtyard near the National Assembly.

Mr. Nangoloh’s visit to the class was important for us to hear the gaps in history we missed in our education in the United States. It was beneficial for the class to ponder the dichotomy of freedom and liberation in the context of a globalization and neocolonialism reign. This week helped set the framework for examining how these racial processes occur in our own home and aid in setting the tone for intentional action when we return to the United States.

Week Ten: Confronting Contradictions

by: Sydney Wipperfurth, Rich Wehman III, Emily Simpson

Following our rewarding weeklong rural homestay, the CGEE students were off for another Namibian adventure! Our group had the privilege of visiting Etosha National Park, which is located in northwestern Namibia and widely considered to be one of the world’s finest game reserves. In the company of Ovambo traders (who probably discovered this region before the Europeans, but who writes history amirite?), Europeans Charles Andersson and Francis Galton “first discovered” the region in 1851 (http://www.etoshanationalpark.org/history). Etosha is loosely translated as “Great White Place” in the Ovambo language because of a massive mineral pan, part of the Kalahari Basin that covers around 25% of the national park. Renowned as one of Africa’s finest conservation areas, Etosha serves as a refuge for large herds of plains’ animals, several rare and endangered species, and richly diverse birdlife. This beautiful national park has a plethora of springs and waterholes where an abundance of wildlife typically congregates. The animals of Etosha are of the southern savanna plains of Africa, and large herds of springbok, zebra, gemsbok, blue wildebeest, giraffe, and elephant roam the plains. The numbers of animals can vary considerably depending on factors such as migration patterns, the condition of the veld, and the availability of water. 

One highlight of the trip would have to be when our group visited the Okaukuejo waterhole, noted as one of the best watering holes during the dry season. All of the students saw elephants, springbok, Burchell’s zebra, and giraffe, amongst others, during our short, yet eventful visit to the site. Perhaps the most exhilarating moment of the game drives occurred when the group spotted a cheetah far off into the distance. Although Namibia boasts one of the world’s largest populations of free roaming cheetah, there are a relatively small number of them found in Etosha. Our group was fortunate enough to witness this beautiful animal gracefully trot towards our vehicle, truly a breathtaking experience!

Etosha National Park during the drought in Namibia

After our game drives, we arrived at the Mokuti Lodge, where we would be staying for the night; our group was welcomed with wet towels and glasses of grape juice (the wet towels were welcome relief from the brutal heat making us feel like we were melting). After entering the front doors, we discovered the lodge was outrageously extravagant. A vast juxtaposition to our experience a week prior, when we got off of the vans in Outapi, Namibia to the warm and welcoming smiles of our rural host-families. This juxtaposition stemmed from the extreme differences in resource availability and resource accessibility. Our rural homestay families, while there was variance, had significantly limited access to basic amenities like running water or electricity, if any at all. The Mokuti Lodge had air conditioning, running water, electricity, television, a pool, and a full, expensive, buffet for dinner, to name a few.

The differences in these environments stirred many conversations, questioning and critiquing the privilege that each of us possess. Although we understand that the program usually stays at a campsite in Etosha and that there were no spots open, the fact that we had the ability to stay in the lodges shows the mobility and privilege we have access to. We were able to choose to live the life of our families in rural Namibia, however, a week later, were able to leave that environment and exchange it for a much more excessive lifestyle in Etosha. The ability to make this transition felt heavy as we reflected our incredible experiences at our homestays and on the stark contrast between the two lifestyles we were living. 

Richard taking a little nap
so he has enough energy to
look at the beauty of
Etosha National Park!

Furthermore, our stay at the lodge highlighted an excessive use of resources, namely water, providing a dramatic contrast between our previous week at our homestays. For instance, during our homestays, many students noticed that their families use water extremely sparingly, ensuring that every single drop is being used. Given the current drought that is affecting Southern Africa, our families did not have much of an option for their water use. However, we were surrounded by water when we arrived at our lodge. All of our rooms had large, luxurious showers, seemingly enticing all visitors to take lengthy showers (tip to the folks back home: shorten your showers!) Additionally, the lodge had TWO pools, filled with the same water that had been so precious and valuable to us just one day ago.

However, we did not experience a dramatic ecosystem change from our homestays to Etosha. If anything, Outapi, with its green grasses and trees, seemed to have more water than the dry landscape of Etosha. So where was all this water coming from? I cannot even begin to imagine how much water is consumed per day at the lodge, and consequently how quickly the groundwater is being depleted. Given everything we have learned about the drought severity in Namibia, this groundwater depletion is especially concerning. Yet this resource depletion is the reality for many tourist destinations, where lodges are focused on ensuring that visitors are comfortable- even at the cost of the environment. 

An intentional community of elephants in Etosha National Park

In the context of Etosha, this reality is especially frustrating, since Etosha provides visitors with an opportunity to appreciate nature and all the wildlife diversity it has to offer. Etosha itself is notable for its conservation efforts, and yet visitors oftentimes live in a contradictory manner. This inconsistency makes it seems as if we are only focused on protecting ecosystems when it is for our own benefit, such as the recreational opportunities provided by game reserves.

These spaces we were existing in were complicated and contradictory. They forced us to reflect on and complicate our environment. But doing so is never an easy task. Although our environment was physically comfortable, confronting these contradictions is extremely uncomfortable and emotionally heavy. But it is also important to acknowledge these feelings, so that we are better able to understand our role in this world.

Week Eight: The Many Shifting Layers of Identity

by: Amanda Siskind, Katie Bosse & Monique Lillis

Ashly, a female identifying person,
and Patrick, a male identifying person,
showing how gender is often identified by
a person’s clothing and physical appearance.

In our classes this week, as well as throughout our time in Windhoek, we’ve been talking a lot about identity. At the start of her presentation, Immaculate Mogotsi took Taylor and Monique to the front of the room and asked, “What do you see?” The class identified them as male and female based on hairstyle and clothing. This exercise was intended to help students understand the difference between gender and sex. As we discussed that day, sex is the biological organs that leave a person with male or female organs or genitals; or a combination of the two. A person is born with their sex, however gender is part of a person’s identity and the identity they typically ascribe to is defined by their culture. For example, Monique identifies as female and she could be identified as such by the dress she wore, and her long hair. However, gender roles are not fixed, they are different in every society; therefore, there is not one identity for females in Namibia because there are many different tribes that ascribe different roles to a woman. For example, we learned from Sara, one of the staff members, that in the Himba tribe the women are in charge of taking care of the livestock while in the Owambo tribe it is a duty ascribed to men. This is just one example of how the identity of women and men and the gender roles that are given to these categories are culture-based and different around the world. 

Identity is not only defined by the cultures into which we are born, but also by the cultures in which we immerse ourselves. For example, in a country entrenched with racist and classist social boundaries, as well as visible physical contrasts, we as Americans have a unique ability to exist in both spaces as third party persons without the label of direct oppressor or oppressed. As we are learning, Namibia’s history has been one of colonialism and genocide of native Namibians by both the Germans and the South African apartheid regime. Yet, because all CGEE students occupy neither of those titles, many of us have felt we are free to navigate through spaces that usually have their set identities and occupants with very little room for integration. 

Our house in Windhoek West

We have both reflected and analyzed our own individual and collective identities as they exist here in Namibia, and how our shifting identities change as we move from one space to another. As a geography and urban development and social change major, I (Katie) could not help but notice how apartheid spaces continue to exist and how that has influenced communities socially. Positioned in Windhoek West, our community house rests in a neighborhood that situates us in an equal distance to stark opposites, Katutura and Klein Windhoek. Because of this unique setting, the CGEE students participate in both areas for different reasons.  

The Katutura Township is a product of the South African apartheid state, where a mix of Namibians from various tribes coexisting in what was known as the “old location” were forcibly removed to live in neighborhoods based on language groups. By doing such acts of othering, Namibian identities changed from one collective existence into identities defined by language group history. This, as we have observed this semester, was a powerful tactic in separating the masses, as now there are language group conflicts and language group inequalities. Nevertheless, despite their personal language groups, the people in Katutura are all united in a collective identity of being black, which is why the apartheid state put them in these townships in the first place. 

More than just a tool for separating tribes, the township was also designed so that white people never needed to enter and the black people only had to leave for work. These rules might not exist anymore, however I see white and black Namibians continuing to follow these reverberated historical norms. There are small houses, informal settlements, outdoor markets, people selling anything they can on the side of the road, shebeens (local bars), and a ton of people walking outside among unkempt trash and blaring house music. Yet it is very rare to see a white person walking in this area.

The white colonizers who did not want to intermingle with black Namibians historically occupied Klein Windhoek and other white-only suburbs during Apartheid. Still today, Klein Windhoek is set aside so that one can only reach it intentionally, not by merely passing through the city. The majority of residents of this area are still white Germans and Afrikaners, because the high housing prices and lack of public transportation prevents the migration of black Namibians from moving into the area from other neighborhoods around Windhoek. Here, one will find farmers markets, expensive restaurants, private schools, newly erected malls, and more-recent development. There are clean streets and very rarely will you see a street taxi roaming around looking for clients.

Katie, Sydney, Molly, and Siri out to dinner at Andy’s,
one of our favorite restaurants in Klein Windhoek.

As three white American women, it is important to critically examine what our identity means in each space we occupy here and to further acknowledge how we are able to exist in both of these areas as somewhat of a third party actor. On a larger scale, what does it mean for a group of comparatively privileged Americans to come to this unique space and ask for the people in Katutura to educate us on their oppression here and the history of their struggle? What does it mean, further, when at the end of the day we go to Klein Windhoek to eat at a nice restaurant or spend our Saturday mornings at a farmers market buying fine cheeses, fresh bread, and local crafts? As a group of American study abroad students we must continuously reflect on our individual and community identity here in Windhoek West and the implications it might have on the people here.  

Even as we’ve been learning about the identities of people in Windhoek and our personal identities, we’ve also been creating a new group identity. We are no longer those strangers from the first nights in Johannesburg. We know each other’s personalities, we’ve learned about important moments in everyone’s pasts, and we’ve built a collective history together here. We’ve settled into a comfortable group identity that allows us to encourage and support each other. We’ve had many discussions in our living room or over dinner about what we’ve learned, what has made us uncomfortable or challenged our views, and what role our identities and privileges have had in the way that our experiences have played out. These discussions can be tough to have, especially when we are already often out of our comfort zones living in a new city and a new country far away from our friends and family. But thankfully we are all in this together, and that has let us feel more supported as we continue to dive deeper and learn more about these issues of identity. 

One of the main things we’ve learned about identity is that it’s complex, layered, and varied depending on where you’re from and your life experiences. We’ve all had unique experiences here in Windhoek, but we’ve also all been studying and living here together, and that is a part of our identities that we will keep beyond this program.