Opposites and Paradoxes

It's hard to figure out what to write here.  Everything just kind of trucks along at a steady pace, and nothing seems significant enough for a post, though I don't want to leave anything out either.  In the month and a half that I've been here so far, I've found it very hard to settle in.  Gobabeb is such a unique and polarizing place, leaving me extremely happy one day, and extremely sad the next.  I never really just feel neutral here, instead everything seems to work in extremes.  Gobabeb is a place of opposites and paradoxes.  Let me give some examples:

Gobabeb is the quietest place I have ever been.  At night, my room is silent, with only the sound of wind and the occasional howls of jackels to break through the silence.  Whenever a rare plane flies over, we all stop and look for it as the loud engine breaks through our usual peace and quiet.

Gobabeb is the loudest place I have ever been.  School groups bring giant speakers and blast hip hop music as they run around yelling and singing.  The TV is always on in old house playing a soap opera, music videos, or most recently South Africa's version of American Idol.

Gobabeb is extremely lonely.  Some days I talk to maybe one person in passing the entire day.  I'll stand over the stove cooking in silence, only to move to the table to eat alone.  I'll walk to my room realizing that I haven't said more than a couple words to anyone all day.

I am never alone at Gobabeb.  Some days I can't get a minute to myself as I rush from giving a nature walk to a group of tourists to give a lecture on the scientific method to 30 Grade 10 learners from Walvis Bay.  As soon as the clock hits five and everyone else leaves work to cook dinner and relax, I am climbing a dune with 25 loud Grade 5 learners who decide it's a good idea to start a sand fight.  I finally sit down for a second only to realize I need to grab the UV lights to go on a night-time scorpion hunt with 16 American University students.  I finally lay down in bed happy to finally be alone, only to wake up the next day to do it again.

Scorpion Hunt

There is not enough to do here at Gobabeb.  Some weeks I'll sit at my desk planning a trip to Botswana just to pass the time.  I sit around waiting for the phone to ring just to give me something to do.

There is way too much to do at Gobabeb.  Some weeks I work non-stop from 8 to 8 only to have barely made a dent in my long to-do list.  As soon as I feel I've made progress on one project, someone drops an entirely new project on my desk.

Gobabeb is boring.  I wake up on a day off wondering what the heck I'm going to do with an entire day off.  I desperately wish the internet was fast enough to download movies.  Perhaps I'll just take a nap...

There are so many things to do here.  Should we climb the dunes? Should we set up sand volleyball? Should we set up the projector to watch a movie? Maybe we should take off the pool cover.  Or perhaps we can have a potluck. And when on earth am I going to have time to go backpacking in the Naukluft mountains. Oh and I ran out of bread, I better bake another loaf.  And when in doubt, old house always needs a thorough cleaning...

My job is monotonous.  I give the same tours over and over to each group.  I run the same programme for every learner.  I sit at my desk and make the same phone call 50 times.  I listen to the same hold tone on every phone call.

My job is never the same.  One day I'll sit at my desk sending emails and making phone calls.  The next I'm at the MPI tower changing cryotraps and taking flask samples.  The next day I might be with a group of Swedish tourists.  The next I might be with a group of Namibian school kids.  The next I might be off to Swakup to buy plants for the YES Programme.  Next week perhaps I'll be going to Windhoek to recruit learners for GTRIP.  No week is ever the same.

Going to the MPI Tower

There are very few people at Gobabeb.  Only 12 people consistently work here right now.  I guess sometimes there can be as many as 15, but not recently.  In fact, most of our staff was away on a course in the north for the past month, leaving only 4 of us at the station.  I see the same faces every day.  I see the same people at work, in the kitchen, around the tv, and on my days off.

There are so many people at Gobabeb.  Over 1000 students visit Gobabeb, and over 200 researchers come to do work each year.  In the past month I have played jenga with a German lizard scientist, had a potluck with an American family, been invited to dinner with German tourists who spoke very little English, been offered drinks from Topnaar men and teachers, watched the moonrise with two Namibian teenage boys, talked about aerosols with French scientists, and much more.  There are almost always exciting people at the station, and very few of them stay for longer than a month.  Faces are always changing around here.

Moon-Rise with Teenage Namibians

I have learned so much at Gobabeb.  I can literally talk for hours (and do on a regular basis) about the three unique ecosystems here.  I can name many plants and animals by their scientific names, English common names, Afrikaans names, and sometimes even Nama names.

I have learned next to nothing here. The only information I actually know about Namibia is the information I recite on an often daily basis for tourists.  I cross my fingers that they don't ask many questions, because I don't have any of the answers.  I sit to talk to our director about a programme that I am in charge of, only to find that I am supposed to give lectures to graduate students about statistics, desert ecology, ephemeral rivers and plant biology... Nothing I know allows me to contribute here.  I am simply the history major that ended up with a bunch of brilliant scientists, don't mind me.

Giving a Station Tour

Overall, it is hard to get a handle on my new life here in Namibia.  Some days I feel very happy here, and can't wait for the next day.  Other days I wonder what I'm doing here and what good I could possibly be doing.  Though sometimes I get whiplash from one day to the next,  the changes are becoming comforting.  As soon as I get settled on one emotion, I often flip moods entirely.  However, the rapid changes simply mean that the days that I feel homesick and useless, I can take comfort in the fact that this feeling will pass as quickly as it came.  On days where I feel happy and productive, I embrace the feeling while it lasts.

As I slowly build a routine, I am getting more and more settled despite all the rapid changes.  No matter how different today is from the next day, I can stay grounded in the things that stay constant: my morning runs, my weekly sun-downer in the dunes, my monthly town trips.  I've begun to find things to keep myself busy and focused, no matter what is happening at work or among staff members like sketching, baking, running, and reading.  I hope that when I find some constants in my new life, the changes will become less significant.  More like gusts of wind blowing through grasses rather than waves on a shell.  While a shell is at the mercy of the waves, being whipped back and forth and thrown against rocks and beaches, grass moves with the wind while staying rooted in the earth below.  I'm so poetic I know.

Baking Muffins and a Cake

On a Mid-Day Run

Right now I am feeling very happy and settled here at Gobabeb.  But once again we are on the brink of some very big changes.  While there have only been a few people here the past few weeks, the rest of our staff is returning tonight with a handful of university students here for a course.  While the past few weeks have been very quiet and slow, the schools just got off for holiday, leaving us with school visits every day this week.  On top of that, the YES (youth environmental summit), a programme for 30 Grade 11 Namibian learners that I have been planning for the last month and a half begins in two

weeks.

The Garden Before YES work

It seems like everything is changing once again... but that's what makes life exciting here in the Namib.