The lunch lady and the Sewage Board

Several people, especially folks writing 'newsy' stories about our year here, have asked me what my daily routine is like. Perhaps they wonder if we start the day by walking a mile to get our water. Or, maybe they wonder if we have to collect firewood to cook our meal. Unfortunately, neither of these are correct. Our life in Namibia is very similar to our lives in Nebraska.

But, there are some little differences. Just little things, too mundane to report to these folks interviewing us. But, funny enough to report here. Here are two little things that I will miss about my daily life in Namibia:

1. The lunch lady.
Almost every day, I walk downstairs to a little kiosk outside the office building, and I buy my lunch. The same young lady waits on me every day. And, every day I order a hamburger, a coke, and a package of Simba chips (like Ruffles chips, except my favorite flavor is 'chutney' over here ). The amusing part of this daily adventure is that the price is NEVER the same. Usually, it is either 19, 20, 20.50, 22, or 24 Namibian dollars. She uses a calculator to add up the three items. Perhaps Simba chips fluctuate like gold on the world market? Perhaps she just makes up the prices? But, it is really fun to guess whether it's going to be high or low. And, if I only have a 20-dollar bill, it's a question of whether I really have enough to buy my lunch.

Today, I added a large bottled water and a BarOne candy bar to my standard order (exams are over, and I'm celebrating). I was ready to pay 35 dollars. It cost 23 dollars...JACKPOT!

I'll miss this daily 'lottery'.

2. My office phone and the Sewage Board
As a temporary lecturer, my office phone number is largely unknown to anyone at Polytechnic. So, no one calls me to talk to me. They just come to my office. If the phone rings, it is usually someone calling for the person who used to have my number, or just a wrong number.

In addition, Polytechnic has no voice mail. So, that is a bonus! I may have to adopt that policy when I go back to UNL! But, it doesn't matter at Polytechnic, as no one calls me, anyway.

Today was special. Within a 15-minute time period, I received three phone calls. They were looking for "Mr. Bayes", "Mr. Mosuto", and "Mrs. Chikango", and each had been given my number by the switch board. Nope, wrong number. Sorry. No, I don't know how to forward your call. Haven't been trained in call-forwarding.

A few minutes passed and then, I got The Call.

"Hello," the lady said. "I'm calling from the Sewage Board."

Well, that's a new one, I thought. Why is the Sewage Board calling me?

"I'm calling to check your number," she stated. "What is your name?"

Now, in Namibia, when someone asks your name, they are probably about ready to sell you something. Like the little macalani palm nuts that people carve your name on. Or, in this case, perhaps some sewage?! So, I was on-guard.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"I'm at the Sewage Board. I have to check your number."

Well, my office does have a funky smell sometimes, but I thought it was mostly because of the bats in the attic.

"Ma'am, what is the Sewage Board...?" We went back and forth like this for about 2-3 minutes. I was refusing to give her my name, and she was demanding to know my name.

Finally, she said, slowly, "Sir, I'm calling from the Polytechnic Switch Board." Ah, 'suh-witch board'...'switch board.'

And, just like that, I felt pretty stupid. I'll miss feeling stupid, and I'll miss adventures with my office phone.