Goodbye winter, hello summer! And COS medical

Just as suddenly as winter interrupted a perfectly nice Namibian fall, summer has barreled in with all its sunny hotness. The sounds of spring are all around, and while the smells of spring in Namibia can't quite compete with the smells of spring in the East Coast - melting snow, thawing ground and growing spring grass - they are refreshing.  Gone are the mornings of walking to school while the sun rises wearing a beanie and gloves, and soon to arrive are the mornings I walk into the staff room in the morning sweating like a fat man.

Walking to and from school continues to bring me great delight. It is joyous. And it’s hard to convey just why it brings me so much happiness, but I can say that it is regularly the best part of the day (although lately there have been some breakthroughs at school that have made me feel warm and fuzzy inside). 

This morning on the news there was a report/story about a man in the north who'd been arrested and convicted of repeatedly raping a girl over 2 years, from the age of 8 – 10.  He'd been sentenced 12 years in prison.  A judge is trying to add 18 years to the sentence.  The man is objecting to the additional years on account of having swollen feet.  Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.

So 2 weeks ago I found ­­­myself with 3 other PCVs at the office in Windhoek for Close of Service medical examinations.  We had to poop in cups, pee in cups, they poked and prodded and asked us a lot of questions about all our ailments over the last 2 years.

In spite of the fact that I recognize I have no control over them, I have been finding myself stressed about certain circumstances in my life.  I’ve been working hard to let go of the stress and accept the circumstances as they are, but there are just some things that….  well, are inescapable, and other things that just really get under my skin.  Anyway, as a result of this stress I’ve been clenching my teeth at night (and also during the day sometimes) and have been waking up with headaches and tired, sore jaw muscles.  I asked our PCMO if I might have a bite plate made to wear at night; after a lot of hassle, inconvenience, etc she said no, that they were going to send me to a counselor instead.  While I feel a little resistant to this idea, I figured that at least the person would be getting paid to listen to me talk, so it might be a nice chance to air my complaints to an unbiased 3rd party.

The “counselor” turned out to be a psychoanalyst.  The first day I spent 2 hours with her, and it was quite clear what was going on almost immediately – she was asking those leading questions, making very psychoanalytical observations (like when I referred to male persons over the age of 24 as boys, she commented on how it sounded like I was trying to have the upper hand on all men)…. At the beginning of the second session, she told me that she’d spent 2 hours already trying to get to know me in order to fill out this form and write a report to Peace Corps.  She used the word “therapy”, and I told her I wasn’t there for therapy, I was there for counseling and stress relief.  Sigh. Overall it was a colossal waste of time and it angered me that this was Peace Corps’ alternative to giving me a biteplate or mouthguard. And, as it turns out, DC gave the go ahead to have a mouthguard made. Oh, bureaucracy.

I had to stay in Windhoek for 2 extra days beyond the normal COS medical time allotment to complete my counseling, which gave me the chance to go climbing 3 days in a row before finally returning to Gobabis. It was splendid. Sadly, my climbing buddy Mia is headed back to South Africa for new adventures in Johannesburg. Good thing I'm headed her way soon soon!

Thanks to everyone who's emailed in the last couple days!  While I'm not feeling particularly homesick these days, it's always really nice getting emails and hearing about everyone's “boring” lives. :)