Cheers!

Everyone in Omaruru knows my name. That is to say, everyone knows at least one of a few names used to refer to me. In my office, I'm either Caitlin or Cait. Throughout the Ministry of Education, I am Caithlin, Caitlin, or Miss Gokey. With the townspeople and children, I am any number of names, from Miss Lin (many people think "lin" is my surname), to mae frou (my lady/miss), to Tracey. Don't ask me how they came up with that one. (And, sorry Boulder, but nobody would believe me if I introduced myself as "Kat.")

And even though I am far from fluent in Afrikaans, or Otjiherero or KKG or any other language that is spoken in my town, I understand enough to know that most of the time, people are talking about me. I'm usually able to pick out key words or phrases, such as: "white girl," "volunteer," "teacher," "no husband," but even if I couldn't, it's not hard to tell that I'm constantly being assessed by my town. I've been in Omaruru for over three months, but people still stare at me as if I'm someone's exotic pet who's about to do a great trick that no one wants to miss. I've been combating this problem by greeting every single person I pass on the street, no matter how strangely they are looking at me, and I've found that this alleviates some of the awkwardness felt between the stare-er and the stare-ee. Though it's not much, I can at least greet in all three of the local languages, which most people here seem to appreciate, and which seems to fool some people into thinking I can speak that language, causing them to shush one another and whisper as I pass by. I'm sure it's untrue, but to keep smiling, I tell myself that they're only saying good things about me :)

Every morning on my walk to work, I am greeted by the same people. There are the old memes who come to clean the school, the baakie full of people coming in from the Location (the Location is part of Omaruru where the blacks lived during apartheid), the men who work at the service station, and the municipality workers who cross through the riverbed as I walk over the bridge (I am far too afraid of our unpredictable river to walk through it). But my favorite has to be the man I meet crossing the bridge everyday. He is always with a friend, and they always greet me in Afrikaans ("Goeie more , Ms. Lin! Hoe gaan dit?"). And after I respond and ask them in return how they are doing, the man yells out, "I love you!" I have no idea if he knows what the phrase means, but it makes me laugh every time he says it, which I think is why he continues to do so. Either way, it usually brightens my morning.