Wanderlust

When we had finished soaking in some of our new surroundings on the airport tarmac, we headed into the airport to pass through customs and to collect our baggage. I was technically the first member of Group 29 to officially enter Namibia (ha Lindsay). I walked up to meet some Peace Corps Namibia staff members, handed over my passport and WHO (World Health Organization) immunization card, and went to check for the luggage.

The silent prayers I offered after hearing the previous luggage horror stories had been answered. I quickly found both of my bags (with everything in them) and then helped pull other volunteers’ bags, which were marked with a purple thread of yarn, off the luggage carousel as well. As the other volunteers began to join me, it became quite apparent that others had not been as fortunate as myself. More than half of the group did not get all of their bags, and I don’t even know how many were missing items. Anything of value that was placed in the checked bags was subject to the random thefts. It was hit or miss really. Nick found an empty battery package in his bag, which the thief was courteous enough to replace after removing all of the batteries. This initial hassle was due to the hospitality of the Johannesburg International Airport baggage handlers. (If any of you plan to visit, don’t worry, there are measures that can be taken to help prevent theft)

We waited for some time, as a few of the volunteers were in denial about the status of their baggage (Rachel). But as the luggage on the carousel slowly dwindled down and disappeared, and as time elapsed, they began to accept the reality of the situation. The unlucky travelers went to go fill out reports with the airline while the rest of us went outside to wait. We were greeted by group of PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) holding a banner and cheering for our arrival. It was extremely comforting to have people who at one point in time were standing in our very shoes. And in the hours to follow, we relentlessly questioned them in an attempt to understand Namibia and what it held in store for us.

Finally, all of Group 29 was reunited. We were packed into two kombis (I’ll elaborate later, but basically vans), and headed North from Windhoek to Okahandja, where we would be training for the next two months. During the hour long ride, we continued the question and answer sessions we had been previously engaged in. In my kombi, a PCV named Chaz answered questions, gave us suggestions, and told us stories of exotic animals, various tribes and regions, random interesting cultural beliefs and behaviors, and racial issues rooted in a way too recent past. My mind was completely overwhelmed. And as I sat there staring out the window, drinking in the incredible scenery, I was overtaken by a sense of wanderlust. Wanderlust for the possibilities that lied ahead of me, for all of the challenges I would face, for all mysteries awaiting me, for the adventures calling my name…and wanderlust for this country I had never heard of before, this country called Namibia... this strange and exciting new world.