Hello!
The biggest accomplishment I've achieved in Peace Corps, besides getting through the past two years, is the completion of the Media Centre at Kameru Senior Primary School. When I undertook this project, I was naive and idealistic I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I formed a committee of two teachers, the principal, and a parent. The committee had potential and smiled at my ideas, but realistically, I did all of the work of calling for quotations, finding local craftsmen, and writing the proposal. I tried to sit back and assist my committee through the process, but I realized early on that nothing would've happened had I not taken the reins. Some would argue that this isn't helping the people, it's only hurting them in the long run which is true in some ways. However, living and working here is a different story. I looked at this project as helping to improve the children's education and setting an example of hard work, determination, and persistence.
I wrote the proposal and submitted it to the Small Project Assistance (SPA) committee for review of my request for $4000USD. The committee approved the proposal and projected a date when I would receive the money. Three months after their deadline, I still hadn't received the money. With less than four months left in my service, I realized I needed to think of Plan B. I had to juggle funds from home and pay from my own pocket. I bought the bookshelves, air conditioner, paint, varnish, t.v. arm, etc, etc, in Windhoek and sat by the road for hours to make the 12 hour hitch hike up to Opuwo. The fun had only just begun. Although I had enough money to buy the materials, I didn't have enough of my own money to pay for the labor. After finally being reimbursed in the middle of January, we were ready to break the wall between two classrooms.
A month later, the wall had disappeared, the ceilings were refurbished, holes in the walls were patched, the room was painted a beautiful mustard yellow, the shelves were installed, and the TV was mounted.
We hired an electrician to install ten plugs for the new computers and the TV/VCR. However, after he left, all of the electricity was off in the whole school. I insisted that we get the man back to fix the problem. My principal claimed that the man was sick and we would have to hire someone else. A few hours later, he had his man. I asked for a quotation, and the man asked for N$400 (about N$75 USD). Mr. Mumbuu exclaimed, "Wow, that's cheap!" with phony voice inflection. I asked to get it in writing, and the man said it wasn't necessary. I was busy with another task, so I let the man get to work.
The next day, the man pulled up to work in a government vehicle. I figured out very quickly that the man worked for the Department of Works, the maintenance department which is responsible for fixing utilities at government institutions, such as our school. I challenged him on the fact that we were paying him (with money donated from the USA) for doing a job he's supposed to do anyway. After further investigation, I found that the man was doing the work under the table,' and my principal was getting a portion of the money as well. I don't want to even ponder how many times this has gone on without me catching on. The positive side to this story? I investigated the situation AFTER the man did the work and BEFORE I paid him, which means the labor was free, as it should've been.
What was missing? The BOOKS!
The books, which arrived in Namibia in September, sat in Windhoek for over seven months. I tried to get the Ministry of Basic Education involved to assist with transporting the books. After all, the government school was getting thousands of books, not to mention a beautiful room to keep them in. Despite hundreds of phone calls (line are not open, like they are in the USA) and faxes, all I got were empty promises.
At the mean time, I was in the middle of another messschool chairs. We have many broken metal frames that are missing the wooden seats. Instead of buying new chairs, I found an organization that employs people with disabilities who cut and sand the wood to make the tops for chairs. This organization also gave me empty promises. After the 23rd call to request a quotation, that they promised they'd fax to me, I decided to go another route. If they don't even send me a fax, how do I know they'd come through with the work?
I persuaded a friend of mine to drive 8 hours to collect large sheets of wood. We cut, sanded, and varnished them ourselves and secured them to the metal frames. The only drawback was getting more metal skeletons to have enough chairs to fill the Media Centre. I went to other local schools to ask for their broken chairs (that have been sitting in storerooms for years). No one was willing to assist me. Reluctantly, I had to turn to the Ministry of Education again to request broken chairs. The Ministry promised to deliver the chairs with the books. My departure date was drawing near, and I was depending on the Ministry for two major necessities for my Media Centre.read: I didn't get much sleep for three weeks.
I phoned the Ministry twice a day wasting over $30USD on phone cards. When I finally met the transport officer in Windhoek, he said he was surprised that I wasn't a fat, old women, which he thought I was from my impatient voice on the phone. He transported the books.only to Khorixas, which is a 6 hour drive from Opuwo.
With three days before I said my final good-byes to my village, I decided to let go of my hopes of seeing the books and chairs in the Media Centre. I took a deep breath, and told myself I did what I could. On Sunday morning, I put on white kapris, ready to go to a farewell breakfast my friends were throwing for me. As I was leaving, a huge lorry pulled up to my house.
I cajoled my sleeping PCV friends who were visiting me out of bed and bribed them to help me unload the books. The rains that had poured the night before started to pick up again. The water-logged boxes and books were getting wetter only fitting for the completion of this project.
We spent two hours unloading heavy, wet boxes that fell apart upon lifting them. My white pants were covered in mud. Ryan, my PCV friend, threw out his back and can no longer tie his shoes until he sees a doctor in the USA. But the books came. I was happy.
I asked the driver if the metal frames for the chairs came. I held my breath, waiting for his response. He said, "Yes, we brought you fifty wooden tops for the chairs." WHAT???? I HAVE fifty wooden tops for the chairs. I needed the FRAMES to secure them to. Despite my faxes and phone calls, the Ministry sent me the opposite of what I needed. However, they were bringing fifty beautiful chairs to another school, which were on the big lorryhmmmmmmm
Yep, I did it. I seized the chairs. I justified it by thinking that if the school gives me their old metal frames, which we will fix, I will trade the school for their new chairs.
On Monday, fifteen children helped me to unload the boxes and shelve the books. On Wednesday, the Inspector of Education came and took all the new chairs, including the twelve that we fixed ourselves, leaving us with nothing. My frustration? Apart from the other messes that I've dealt with along the way, the Ministry of Basic Education showed no support at my monetary contribution and endless efforts to improve the school.
My energy is drained and my soul is depleted. But the children have eight computer and thousands of books. And that makes it all worth the effort.
Thank you to the many donors who made the media center happen. You have made a difference in many children's lives for years to come. My digital camera was stolen, but I will scan the photos of the completed media center in a few weeks to share with everyone.
Thanks again for your endless support.
Love, Stephanie Hazen
P.S. Oops--spelled Centre using British English.
