Not every story I hear is a pleasant one.
During last month a neighbor—I’ll call her Tina—often came to visit me and her grandfather, who was the patriarch of my homestead. Tina is fashionable, very intelligent, and runs a cuca shop a few nights per week. She also attends church in order to help fill seats, as she puts it. Tina’s most boisterous performance occurred while I was writing a lesson plan in a small, hot room on the homestead. She began with a question to engage me, her captive audience.
The impact that foreigners, especially Germans and Apartheid-era South Africans, had on Namibia is still very present. It is tangible not only by the architecture of inns, biergartens, or barbed-wired watchtowers, but also by the living memories and oral histories that parents share with their children. It can also be felt whenever I meet a new friend, host family, or even teacher. If the first question is not about my possible identity as Boer, then it is as follows:
My agreement with two Tanzanian friends to help them sell their art in America has taught me all that the business course I never took in college might have. I have learned the basics like timing and advertising. I also learned that Ebay is efficient, and Etsy is not. I have learned that face-to-face business transactions are always better. And, now thanks to some connections in Chicago, I have learned about a piece of history.