Young San Diegan teaches - and learns - in Namibia

Erica Gluck surrounded by her 9th grade students in Namibia. (Photos courtesy the Gluck family)

IILYATEKO, Namibia — Naïve idealism and an action plan to save the world brought me to the far central border of northern Namibia to work as a teacher in the remote village of Iilyateko.

My initial days were a haze of disbelief, as contrast in classrooms made me feel as if I had entered an entirely new world; a world filled with broken chairs, tables constructed from old pieces of dry wall, shattered windows and a classroom assembled of sticks. I remember thinking, how could anyone ever learn in this environment?  But yet everyday, my students were present with eagerness unbelievable for the obstacles they face. One of the greatest challenges my children face is simply poverty; a poverty that stretches beyond scarce material possession and creeps into every corner of the classroom. Pervasive poverty Walking up to ten kilometers on an empty stomach to reach the school yard before eight o’clock is not educationally conducive for anyone.  Tired, weak, hungry: these adjectives embody poverty as their home backgrounds are clearly worn across torn clothing and unwashed bodies. This poverty is also apparent in their world view, as so many lives revolve around the isolated village of Iilyateko, not understanding there are villages, tar roads, towns, cities, cultures, countries and continents beyond their community.  Because of this lack of exposure, aspirations rarely move past farmer. My greatest goal here remains showing my kids the many possibilities this world holds for them. These past few months have brought out the inner mother in me.  I love to think of myself as the Mama Hen creating warm, comfy nests within classrooms, diligently watching over my baby chicks. These children have become my life and more than anything, I want them to make something of their own lives.  However, possibilities are rarely presented. There are few role models: Most people here are uneducated; very few are literate. Colonization made it impossible for most adults to attend school; it perpetuated the notion that education is a waste of time and money.  Learners are rarely encouraged to go to school, so their very presence is dependent upon their own will power.

Erica Gluck, left, frolicks with village children in Namibia.

A land of orphans Beyond poverty and limited opportunity, the very base of family structure has been threatened here by HIV. With the fifth highest HIV infection rate in the world, Namibia is home to many orphans and vulnerable children.  Within the education system they are deemed OVCs  – Orphaned Virus Children - and sadly, my school has more than 200 of them, in a student body is less than 500. Such children have lost one or both parents most likely to HIV or are positive themselves.  AIDS is truly a pandemic in this country and its effects can be seen everywhere.  Because of this deadly virus, many children will never know what it means to have both a mother and a father.  It is a harsh reality for an outsider looking in but for the childen, it is a simple reality.

Language barrier And there are other barriers to education. Upon reaching independence less than 20 years ago, the population was expected to switch tongues practically over night to English.  Namibia’s older generation struggles to learn a language they were never formally taught.  Most among today’s generation are raised in homes where English is never spoken. Children are therefore only exposed to English at school, where many of their own teachers struggle with the language as well.  Even though exposure is limited, they are expected to speak fluently. The sad reality is that a good command of English is their only hope to escape village life and secure a job in a town or city. These children have an incredibly heavy load on their shoulders. They will be the ones to determine if Namibia flourishes as an independent country amidst a struggling Africa — or if centuries of colonization were too disabling to allow the nation to stand strong. Many of my learners understand what is inadvertently being asked of them.

Erica Gluck joins in play with youngsters of Iilyateko village.

Pride and inspiration So many outside factors pull them down, so many challenges taint their narrow world view — yet they persist. Sometimes, when my students are silently, diligently completing an in-class activity, my eyes begin to water.  There is no specific reason why. I walk around the room and I feel this overwhelming sense of pride in these beautiful African children.  Pride for who they are and the many things they want to be.  Pride for the challenges they face and the work they do to overcome.  Pride for their presence and their desire to learn. Even in the deep crevices of the Namibian bush, HIV, hunger, broken homes, scarce school resources, language barriers, limited mentors, long distances, isolation and past colonization can’t keep these kids down.  This bravery is why I will always consider such learners to be my heroes, my absolute inspiration. Erica Gluck is a graduate of San Diego’s High Tech High and San Diego State University.  Her parents still live here; they own The Wine Vault.

Tags: Array, SDNN

This entry was posted on Monday, June 29th, 2009 at 10:04 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.