The Ridiculous Stephanus

For some reason the month of June has been a lot different than any of my other months of service. I assumed that my second year would be easier, because older volunteers say this to younger volunteers in their first year to give them something to look forward to. I guess this optimism is true, with some things. But recently I have found that after living here so long, and becoming so invested in the people, my friends,my work, the kids...that when things so astray it just hits me harder. With some hard weeks the change in mood is hard to decipher, but this week it was clear. There were four deaths in Kayanga, two old and two young in the last 5 days. It is weird to mention cause of deaths because it is considered such a taboo topic in my life here in Kayanga, but two of these deaths, like so many others in Namibia are due to HIV/AIDS. The question of how someone died is never asked, nor is it ever suggested that it could be due to the HIV epidemic (out of respect for the family) but it is silently, silently, understood.

One of the four deaths happened to be my friend Stephanus, I have mentioned him before in a previous blog entry, he is known as Kayanga's village crazy. I was very surprised how the news of his death hit me, not until about 5 hours after I heard did I break down. Everyone in Kayanga knew him and no one realized the impact he had on the community until after his presence was so obviously absent. I don’t mean 'impact' in a good way...and not in a bad way either. He was just crazy, like bat shit crazy, in a endearing, ridiculous, funny way, but absolutely, completely loyal to anyone in Kayanga, especially me. Actually, he was almost a genius, but he got drunk on 1 dollar traditional beer daily, so that really took away from his intelligence. He was the only one here that could directly translate everything in Thimbukushu for me.

I am going to miss the weird daily interactions with him. Who is going to scream at me while just having a normal conversation because he can't control the volume of his voice? Who is going to get kicked out of every village meeting after demanding he is going to call the president of Namibia to come to Kayanga? Who is going to randomly sing "Twinkle Twinkle" in probably the worst singing voice ever, ever heard while fetching water (like I said, he is ridiculous)? Who is going to help me collect firewood? Who is going to interrupt my morning pre-primary sessions to tell me he needs washing powder? Who is going to randomly come by my home demanding I eat his cow tongue?? Even every single one of my friends (and sister) who have visited Kayanga knew him, because he was always dropping by my home to say hi. One time, my Peace Corps boss visited from the capital and she was scared for me, thinking that a man who was very angry was coming by my home screaming my name, but he was just coming to say hi (like I said, he really can't control the volume of his voice). Half the time my name was Jackie and half the time it was just "my sister!!!" I don’t mean for this to sound like a eulogy or anything, its just that for people around me death is so terribly common, so the character that is Stephanus may not be commemorated the way that he should be.

Angolan Police Station

It is so typical Stephanus the way that he died. This past week a Chinese man was shot in a large village 30 km away from me (like I said, June has been a weird month). Since Stephanus loves to carry news and alert people of things, he took it upon himself to immediately go to Angola (even though it was getting dark) to tell the police man at the border to watch for any suspicious people crossing over that could be the culprits. After that no one ever saw him, they say that he either drowned or was killed by a crocodile. Normally if there is no body, there is not a funeral held, but I have a feeling that this will not be the case with Stephanus. He was way too well known by everyone to not have some sort of gathering, and maybe we will all sing “twinkle twinkle” because we all know he loved it (I am kidding, sort of).

insisting he help Christine cut the pumpkin

helping move my kitchen hut