Pension Day

Today after school Aoife and I headed into the village to check out Pension Day and have a couple of beers. Basically, Pension Day happens once a month and is when the government comes to designated villages to pay the elderly a monthly stipend. And, this month was particularly anticipated because each eligible recipient would be getting an additional N$240, as the monthly payment was increased by N$80 per month and it was being paid retroactively from April. For many, this is the only money that they receive to live off of for the month (I believe the normal payout is N$450, which is roughly $70 US). When we arrived in the village, there were vendors (which travel around from village to village) set-up all over to take advantage of everyone having money in their pockets. However, the government representatives had not arrived yet. They did not arrive until almost 4p, which means that most of the elderly would not be able to get their money and would have to come back again in the morning.

With Aoife in town, I was able to get a bit more background on everyone than I would have been able to acquire on my own. First, Maria and Kavari do not really hang out in the village or drink beer. Maria does not drink at all and Kavari does not like beer. Second, a native English speaker that is familiar with many long-time residents of the village can communicate more effectively with me. Over the course of her stay, Aoife would periodically reference that she wished that I spoke Irish… and at times, I wish that I did.

Aoife and I met up with Soini, who is part of the Hangala family and lives across from where Aoife is staying. She is a teacher at the primary school. On several occasions I have shared the back of a bakki with her to Oshikango, but had not formally met her until Aoife introduced us. Johnson, John and Theodore, who are also all teachers at the primary school, joined us, as well as Jaffe and several others. The principal of the primary school owns the bottle shop that I have been to a couple of times and Nathan, whose father is the headman of the village, owns the bottle shop next door. While at Nathan’s bar, a mother and her daughter walked by. The daughter could not stop staring at me and Aoife and she put her arm next to mine to compare skin color. After several minutes, the mother was ready to keep walking and pulled her daughter to go with her. She did not want to go. Finally, the mother had to pick her up and carry her away. I think that this is the first Namibian child that has actually not been afraid of me!

On the way home, we stopped at Kondje’s bar, which is relatively new, as it was not there the last time Aoife was in town.