Funding and Values

            Almost four months into my time at Gobabeb, I’ve realized that I’m learning a lot about the inner mechanisms of an NGO.  I first learned about the workings of non-governmental organizations in my Global Development class at Grinnell with Professor Roper.  I specifically remember the term “briefcase NGO”, referring to an organization that creates a platform based on funding rather than the other way around.  Often times these NGOs hire employees who can write attractive funding proposals and progress reports rather than those who can complete the work on the ground.  Rich Western funders look for causes that appeal to Western ideas of what changes need to be made in the world with no regard for what people actual need and would rather see big plans than realistic strategies.

            When I first learned of these NGOs, I imagined a few well-educated people with no cultural understanding sitting in an office writing flowery grant proposals while raking in the dough.  On the other side of the spectrum I imagined individuals connecting with people in remote areas with nothing more than coins in their pockets.  In reality, I have realized that most NGOs fall somewhere in the middle.  While there may be the occasional immoral organization bringing in money without providing real results, I am certain there are no surviving NGOs on the other side of the spectrum.  Gobabeb falls right in the middle of this range.  I see Gobabeb struggle on a day-to-day basis to maintain the delicate balancing act of catering to funders while staying true to our values.  If we fall to either side, Gobabeb will cease to function successfully.  Without funding, nothing will progress regardless of how virtuous our platform may be.  On the other hand, if we do not hold true to our values, no amount of money can produce a worthwhile product.  This leaves me, and Gobabeb, in a rough position.  I know that we must cater to funding to an extent, but I constantly worry about how this is affecting our core values.  I worry that our values are changing based on available funding rather than community needs.

            For example, I am currently writing up the final report for the Finnish Embassy evaluating the Youth Environmental Summits funded by the Finnish Fund for Local Cooperation.  I was impressed as I read through previous progress reports discussing how important contemporary issues in Namibia determined the topics of each YES.  For example, the May 2014 YES was on the topic of the Namib Sand Sea due to its recent inscription as a World Heritage Site.  The YES before that focused on biodiversity in honor of world biodiversity week, which was going on at the same time.  As I wrote up the report, I found myself stuck when trying to justify the choice of topic for the August 2014 YES.  We focused on climate change and plant genetic resources for food and agriculture.  I initially wondered why we chose this topic seeing as we are in the middle of an extremely arid desert, and therefore are not the ideal location to study crops.  I quickly realized that we chose this topic to gain funding from the Benefit Sharing Fund, which was holding a simultaneous course interviewing farmers in the Northern regions about farming practices to come up with a Strategic Action Plan.  How do I justify our choice to study crops in the middle of the Namib Desert?

YES learners studying agriculture in our tiny garden

            I also see buzzwords thrown into grant proposals to draw the eyes of donors without contemplation of the implications this may have on our on the groundwork.  Recently one of our staff created a presentation for an international conference on a topic she is passionate about.  In order to encourage the conference to accept her presentation, she also threw in a side presentation she thought would be attractive, but that she was not interested in.  Low and behold, the presentation she really wanted was not accepted, but the other was.  Now she is stuck attending an international conference to give a presentation she does not have prepared about a topic she really does not care about.

            Maybe it is the opposite effect that has me the most frustrated.  We throw in buzz-words like “climate change”, “women empowerment”, and “indigenous” solely to encourage funders to open their pocketbooks.  Our newest project focuses on an especially at-risk indigenous group called the Topnaar who live along the Kuiseb River.  After reading the proposal for the project I was especially excited about plans to create a sewing circle meant to empower women.  I met with some of the staff to finalize the proposal.  After voicing my excitement about the sewing circle, I found that this section was added simply to cater to our funder who is especially ‘into’ empowering women.  In fact, I was told (with a large eye roll) that our funders particularly liked the sewing circle idea and wanted us to build more on the idea.  After forcing a smile onto my face, I described my ideas to incorporate talks and activities that would foster confidence and independence.  I also proposed the addition of a financial management course to help women gain financial independence with the money from their crafts.  To my dismay, my ideas were seen as great ways to placate the donor rather than methods to improve the status of women within the Topnaar community, which is apparently not one of our values.

Topnaar home

            I find it equally frustrating to see worthwhile projects fall by the wayside due to a lack of funding.  One of the first research projects Gobabeb undertook was the monitoring of Tenebrionid beetles.  There are over 200 species of these beetles.  The little guys have fascinating adaptations to desert life, from crazy methods to collect fog like head-standing and trench building, to a diet of detritus (dead plant material) to take advantage of strong winds and little new growth in the dry environment.  The Tenebrionid beetles are an indicator species, meaning the population density of different species can be connected to greater environmental changes.  For example, fog dependent species are more populous nearer to the coast, while rain dependent species only pop up in great numbers after heavy rain events.  This is one of the longest running research projects in the Namib Desert, let alone in a dry environment anywhere.  This has a great advantage, as we can compare more data and see clearer patterns over the course of a longer period of time.  Long term research is especially essential when looking at topics like climate change, which depend on long-term data to see changes.  However, recently the funding for this project dried up.  Rather than seek out new funding, Gobabeb was ready to drop the beetle monitoring entirely.  Mary Seely, who, more than anyone, understands the importance of this project, came to our rescue by providing the funding herself.

Waxy Darkling Tenebrionid Beetle

Setting pitfall traps to monitor Tenebrionid populations

            In the end, I cannot fault Gobabeb for catering to donors.  Without funding, our projects would come to a standstill, and I really do believe that Gobabeb does a lot of good for Namibia.  Rather, I have come to appreciate the difficult balancing act Gobabeb, and I’m sure every successful NGO, must perform every day.  Given this huge challenge, I’m not sure I could work in, let alone run, a non-governmental organization as a career.  But I think it is absolutely essential for anyone who is interested in development to understand the tough job done by every good NGO to fully appreciate what must be done to foster positive change on the ground.

Runs and Gardens

So after spending two months here in the Namib, I haven't had any big revelations in the last couple weeks.  The fifth Youth Environmental Summit wrapped up a week ago after a lot of hard work and way too many phone calls.  I suppose I should tell you a bit about what the YES is before I talk about how it went.  Basically the YES is a week long environmental science course for 30 grade 11 learners selected from over 150 applications (many more than we have ever received before) from around Namibia.  Each year we choose a topic based on the interests of our funders.  This year the YES was funded by the Embassy of Finland's Fund for Local Cooperation and the Benefit Sharing Fund for the International Treaty on Plant Genetic Resources for Food and Agriculture (a mouthful).  The theme this year was therefore climate change and plant genetic resources for food and agriculture.  The learners spent the week learning about the scientific process, hearing lectures on the topic, being split into three subtopic groups to do fieldwork, and finishing with presentations involving songs, skits, and posters.  The week went really well overall; the 30 learners were all excellent, everyone had a great time, and the presentations were fun.  Though the week was a success, there were a lot of hurdles that I had to jump over get to the end of the week.  For example, there were only enough buses to transport half the kids at a time, leaving me with 15 kids to entertain before everyone else arrived on the first day, and 15 kids to entertain before the bus got back to take them home on the last day.  Also, all three of my group leaders dropped out, one right before the programme, and one the second day in.  Fortunately I am used to running programs like this, and therefore used to things not going according to plan.  I stayed flexible and positive throughout the week, and even heard from multiple people that this was the best YES ever.  Now that the program is over, I am wrapping up some things like press releases and budget summaries before moving on to the next big project: GTRIP.

YES group at the top of Station Dune

Beyond summarizing the YES, I figured I would use this blog post to talk a bit about what I do outside of work here at Gobabeb.  I work from 8-5 on weekdays, and about every other week or so I have a school group over the weekend as well.  I've started three real hobbies here at Gobabeb to keep myself busy and motivated outside of work.  Right now the sun sets at 5:30ish, leaving me with very little daylight after work, so three hobbies keeps me plenty busy.

The first is running which is taking up most of my free time.  I realized that I need some sort of goal to keep myself motivated beyond work, and since I am no longer playing a team sport (for the first time since I was four), I also realized I need a new way to stay fit.  Therefore, I have decided to run a marathon during my time here in Namibia.  If you had asked me last year if I would ever run a marathon, I would have laughed in your face (just ask any of my teammates).  The two mile running test for soccer was the bane of my existence, warm-up runs around the football fields were my least favorite part of practice, and I remember that one time Heather suggested we run four miles instead of the usual three and I almost turned around and went home.  It may therefore surprise you, I know it surprised me, that here at Gobabeb I soon found myself running six miles every few days.  I found that it is too easy to finish work at 5, sit on the computer checking social media and emails until 6, cook dinner and go to bed by 8, only to repeat the same thing the next day.  I felt so brain dead after doing this routine for a few days that I knew I needed to add something significant to my routine to give myself some purpose.  So, I decided to add a major running goal.  So far I've been doing well in my training plan: I haven't missed a single workout, and am feeling great on most runs.  I learned my lesson today when I headed out for a five mile run at 10:30 and, dying of heat, had to walk the last half mile back to the station.  I will only be running in the mornings or evenings from now on.  My first test will be in November when I will hopefully run a half marathon in Swakup, building up to my marathon in February.  If all goes according to plan and I don't pass out at some point, I might even head to Cape Town to run in the Two Oceans race with Sachi (a Grinnell alum in the Peace Corps here in Namibia) at the end of my time here.  Wish me luck!

In the middle of a long run.

The Gobabeb gym

The next hobby I've picked up is not really a hobby, since I have been doing it as a part of work, but I still count it.  There is an enclosed garden here at Gobabeb, but when I arrived it was totally trashed.  I spent a few days cleaning it up and getting dirty, before I bought some seeds and began planting.  I now have a few pots of maize, mahangu, watermelon, beets, rocket, various herbs, and even strawberries.  I'm not sure how anything will turn out in the end; I think our salty water might affect the taste of things.  All the same, I'm working hard to keep things alive out here in the desert.  It's nice to get up from the desk once a day to walk down to the garden and water.  It's also nice to feel responsible for something, even as small as a plant.

Sprouts popping up in the garden

The last hobby I'm cultivating here at Gobabeb is baking.  It's nice to sit in old house on a Sunday waiting for something to be done in the oven, and it's even nicer to have something fresh out here in the desert.  So far I've made muffins, cupcakes, cake, and a couple loaves of bread.  The bread felt like a big accomplishment, since I've never baked, or even seen anyone bake, anything other than muffins and desserts.  Even better than the fresh bread however, was the chocolate marble cheesecake with an Oreo crust for Robert's birthday.  I LOVE cheesecake, but have only ever eaten it store-bought or in a restaurant (and apparently during Thanksgiving at home, but I seriously do not remember that).  I've never even thought that much about how to make it, thinking of it as some sort of complicated desert only real chefs could make.  Therefore, I felt pretty cool serving up marble cheesecake to my Gobabeb family.  I'm going to try to bake something new every month, just to keep making fresh things, and learning more recipes while here.

Chocolate birthday cheesecake!

So that's about it.  I do other things too, like watching movies and reading trashy romance novels (just kidding...but actually... I mean come on I'm in the desert!), but those things didn't seem that interesting to write about.  The next couple months are going to fly by now that things have quieted down around here again.  Tayler and I are busy planning GTRIP (a 5 month research course for four university students) and I actually won't be around Gobabeb very much.  In a couple weeks Tayler and I will be heading to Windhoek (my first time!) for a week to recruit for GTRIP and get some other work done.  In October we will leave for a dune trip to set up pit traps and identify beetles for a week or so.  Then I will head to Windhoek again with Tayler to do interviews for GTRIP.  Finally, for the last two weeks for October, Tayler and I will be going to Botswana on holiday!  By the time we get back we will have just enough time to finish up GTRIP preparations before SDP (a two month research course for 10 university students and recent graduates) begins.  After that, GTRIP will begin in February, taking us all the way to when the new Grinnells arrive.  So strange to be thinking that far ahead, but it really doesn't seem like that much time when so much is on your plate.

I'll get another post in before we head to Botswana, but I'm sure I'll be extremely busy with work and trying to fill out more grad school applications in the next few weeks!

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.

Cultural Differences and Human Similarities

I had my first Namibian school group a couple weeks ago.  I didn't feel prepared at all: I didn't know the information to give tours, I had no idea how to run the programs, and I didn't even know where the campsite was.  Thank goodness Robert has stuck around, because I was able to sit back and learn as he led the tours and ran the programs.  Though I was learning a lot about the station and our environment, I found that there was a lot more than cool nature facts that I would have to learn to do my job.

As Robert led the first tour, every student had a cell phone out.  They were taking pictures, texting, and even taking phone calls as Robert led the high school group around the station.  The kids took pictures of everything, from photos of a rain gauge to shots of each student individually striking a pose in front of a Mustard Bush.

We tried our best to convince the teachers to accompany us on the next tour, in the hope that they would encourage participation, but the teachers refused outright, citing the need to get meat.  As Robert introduced the weather station, the kids were unable to define weather, climate, or even a desert.  We moved around the weather station, finally arriving at the last instrument: the Stevenson Screen.  Suddenly, every student's hand shot into the air.  They could name every fact about the Stevenson Screen! "Sir, sir, it has a wet bulb and a dry bulb."  "Sir, sir, it is white to stay cool."  This went on and on until they had named every basic fact about the instrument.  I was bewildered.  It was clear that the Stevenson Screen was on the Namibian high school curriculum, but the definition of weather was not.

 As we moved to our next program, I brought a group of students around to set pit traps.  I hadn't said much throughout the day, as Robert was leading and I was trying to learn everything I could.  I was therefore surprised when a few of the girls wanted me to pose in a photo with them.  I happily complied, confused as to why they were interested in documenting their experience with me: the woman who stood in the back and took notes the entire trip.  Don't get me wrong, I'm used to taking pictures with girls who don't know much about me; after all, I worked at a Girl Scout Camp.  But unlike at camp, every student in the group wanted a picture with me, while I'm sure less than half knew my name.  As we headed into the dunes for a sundowner, the kids continued to snap photo after photo, each boy following me around to get a picture on top of the dunes.

Walking up to Station Dune

As we walked down the dune back to camp, I heard the bleat of a goat in the distance.  I immediately realized what the teacher had meant about getting meat earlier.  It was silly of me to think anything different, but when someone says "I need to get meat," I generally picture a run to the nearest grocery for boneless chicken breasts and ground beef.  As the nearest grocery is about two hours away, it made much more sense for the teacher to go to the nearest Topnaar village and barter for a goat.  I walked into camp looking around for the animal, only to finally see it poking it's head out of the school bus window.  As one of the boys walked by me with a large knife, I was trying to decide if I was ready to see a goat be slaughtered.  I had no problem with the group killing and eating a goat, in fact I'm sure it had received better treatment than most animals I've eaten, but all the same, I was mentally preparing for the sight.

Overall, I felt out of my element the entire weekend.  I wondered if it would be somehow culturally insensitive to scold students for using their phones, and how to get teachers to participate without being rude.  I've created and led a multitude of programs for hundreds of groups of kids ranging from 7 years old to 17 years old, and yet I did not feel ready to lead Namibian school groups on my own.  Robert discussed his frustration with teachers that do not participate.  I told him that we have to recognize the fact that this is a cultural issue.  However, just because something is cultural doesn't inherently make it okay.  I said it is our job to push back against these problems while simultaneously recognizing the cultural sensitivity of the situation.

As the school bus pulled away, both Robert and I sighed with relief.  An American University was coming later in the day, and I was excited to work with people I could relate to.  I was ready to have intellectual conversations and have a group who was excited to learn about things like climate.

The group pulled up and quickly unloaded their massive bags of luggage from their bus.  We jumped into our first tour, which I led, feeling confident about both the information and the group.  One of the students asked to talk to Robert about climate change, and he happily complied.  As they sat down, it became clear the student did not believe in climate change, leading us to wonder why she was doing a project on the subject.  Robert did his best to have a productive conversation with the girl despite their differences.

As we sat with the group that night, they were loud and boisterous, doing impressions, blasting music, and laughing at their bus driver's sexist jokes.  I felt way out of my element, sitting in the back with a smile plastered to my face.

That night Robert and I found ourselves having the same conversation about we had a few days previously about cultural sensitivity.

The next morning I walked up to the group, only to hear them discussing something insensitive that was said the night before.  This led to a discussion about intolerance and the need to be open minded.  I was extremely surprised that the group was having this discussion at all, and was pleased that they were clearly pushing their boundaries.  I felt a bit ashamed of myself for giving up on this group and becoming so frustrated.  Encouraging simple discussions about tolerance like this would be so much more productive than writing the group off entirely.  I mentally shook myself, and promised to do better for the rest of the visit.

We drove to the nearest Topnaar village, and I was interested to see how the group would react to seeing the living situation of the indigenous people.  The first three questions were about religion.  By asking three questions about religion first, it became clear that the group felt that whether or not the old Topnaar man and woman were faithful Christains was the most important piece of knowledge.  Our hosts answered the questions quickly and easily (illustrating that they are quite used to getting these questions), before the group moved onto other topics.  Overall the visit was great for both the group and for me.  I didn't know what to feel as the students walked around the small house snapping shots of corrugated metal and cardboard walls, homemade dresses, and hungry animals with their $1,000 cameras.  I did not blame the students for this; I have a similar camera in my backpack, an iPhone in my pocket, and brand new REI clothing on my back.  The sight reminded me to check my privilege, and to keep what is truly important constantly in mind.

Visiting a Topnaar Village

As the group pulled away, I learned an important lesson:  Every person/group, no matter their background, culture, skin color, or country of origin, will be different from you.  However, you can find at least as many similarities as differences if you put in an effort.  It is essential to focus on these similarities rather than the differences, no matter how obvious the differences or small the similarities.

In the end I found that I ran into just as many cultural differences with the American group as I did with the Namibian group.  But even more importantly, I found that both groups were capable of having important discussions, whether that simply be about the definition of weather or be a more complicated talk on the importance of tolerance.  These discussions would never be had if I had only focussed only on cultural differences instead of human similarities.  Everyone is capable of opening their mind, and that is something I will never again forget.

After all, it's all worth it when you get letters like this:

Beetles and Stars

If one could conclude as to the nature of the Creator from a study of his creation, it would appear that God has a special fondness for stars and beetles." - J. B. S. Haldane

Professor David Campbell told us this quote in Environmental Science one morning.  Apparently J. B. S. Handane said this to the Queen of England when she asked him to describe the most important thing he had learned during his career.  Maybe I only remember it so specifically because of the ridiculous voices Prof. Campbell used to imitate Handane, or the even more absurd falsetto accent he used for the Queen, but either way the quote stuck with me.

Though I know Handane wasn't speaking specifically about Namibia, or even Gobabeb, he may as well have been.

There are many things that I am still unsure of here in my new home, like how to cook in an oven with one temperature setting, how to turn right from the left side of the road, how to tolerate the salty water, how to stay in touch with loved ones in such an isolated place, or even how to interact well with Namibian high school students.  The long list of things I still feel unsure about honestly make me nervous about my time here.  I often sit in on a meeting about a trip I am planning and listen to the other two people talk about ecological restoration or plant genetic resources feeling absolutely useless as a colleague let alone someone in charge.  At the same time, I am soaking up new information like a sponge.  Slowly but surely I am determined to contribute to this place instead of simply sit by passively.  Sometimes it is hard to remember how many things I do actually know as I get caught up in how unsure I am.  Therefore, I thought my first blog post might be a good opportunity to talk about 33 things that  I DO Know:

1.  There are 200 species of tenebrionid beetles at Gobabeb.

2.  The Gobabeb night sky is one of the most astounding things I have ever, and will ever, experience.

3.  The work Lekker means good in Afrikaans

4.  There is only one way to cook meat in Namibia: WELL done.

5.  The Namib Desert is NOT the oldest desert in the world, just one of the oldest.

6.  It is hard to walk in sand.

7.  Germany won the world cup, just ask Thorston, our German researcher... better yet don't ask.

8.  A flashlight is a torch, a jacket is a jersey, and a text is an sms.

9.  Sand will get everywhere... no you don't understand... EVERYWHERE. (clean laundry, in the shower, in your eyes, in your food, etc.)

10.  Almost every learner from every school group will take a picture with me because I am a white woman.

11.  Scientific names are the only names.

12.  Do not smoke the Nicotiana Glauca, aka Wild Tobacco.  You will die.

13.  Do not approach snakes.  You might die.

14.  Shake out your shoes every morning.  You probably won't die... but you could.

15.  The Red Eyed Bulbul (a bird) will forever be referred to as the Red Eyed Dumdum.

16.  School groups may bring live animals in their busses to slaughter for dinner.

17.  Indigenous does not equal environmentalist.

18.  Tea time is the best time.

19.  Cheetahs are FAST.

20.  In fact, every animal is here FAST.

21.  Always drive fast in sand; the more out of control you feel, the better.

22.  Scientific papers are bed time reading.

23.  Dish night is the worst night of the week.

24.  Don't use idioms... Everything is an idiom.

25.  The hold tone is the same Mozart song on every phone in Namibia... it will be stuck in your head.

26.  8:00 in Namibia means 9:00... if you're lucky.

27.  Just now means in a while.  Now means in a minute or two.  NOW NOW means right now.

28.  Effective Microorganisms are the coolest thing ever.

29.  Effective Microorganisms are only available from Japan...

30.  How to change a Cryotrap.

31.  Living in the Fairgrounds was practice for living in Old House.

32.  The internet requires patience to work properly.

33.  Nama is impossible to speak as a foreigner.

I will try to find the time to post again to actually describe some of my new life here at Gobabeb soon, but for tonight, it's time for dinner.