Remnants of Intro to Philosophy

“How do I say this word sir?”

I am sitting in the community center of Opuwo, located at the Ministry of Gender Equality and Child Welfare. I am surrounded by people, cameras and bright lights. One of students is pointing to the word “escapism”, which she has scrawled onto a piece of paper. We are here to take part in a discussion about youth and voting. This is particularly relevant as the “born-frees” (people born after independence) are just turning eighteen. There are other students, community members, and political party representatives here.

Some of the learners are supposed to read posters that line the walls of the hall, which are filled with language that would be a challenge for American high-schoolers. I struggle to explain “escapism,” as well as “political tolerance,” “exercise restraint,” and “political climate.” It gets me thinking of my own escapes…

Sometimes I worry about my desire to escape for a while by reading, watching movies, adjusting my fantasy baseball team, etc. Am I delaying growth by avoiding confrontation with difficult issues? Would I be better off in the bush, separated from the means to escape? Then I think about how I fled from things back in the US as well. It is nothing new. I also don’t escape all the time. I work hard and face problems, but I can’t constantly. It seems natural and ok, and has led me to some of my favorite books, movies, etc. I am a nerd at heart, and love pondering other places and times.

Maybe what is difficult here is my experience when not escaping. It is very new, exciting, and exhausting. It seems logical that this would cause me to flee from reality more frequently, even if I run only as far as to things that connect me with home (e.g., an encyclopedia entry on NYC was oddly comforting). Perhaps what really worries me is the end of the year; if I decide to leave, am I just escaping the challenges here? If I stay, is it because I embrace the experience here or because I am not ready for the difficulties awaiting me at home? Career anyone?
“What about this word sir?” The word is “indulge.” Yeah, not easy to explain. I sit in the community center and listen to my learners explain how their parents threaten them if they choose a different political party from their elders. I listen to the broken English, a sign of a break from Afrikaans and the memories of apartheid. I listen to this for 4.5 hours, in typical Namibian fashion. At some point I run over to the Power Save to buy food, as my kids have now missed dinner and most of evening study. I buy 10 bananas, crackers and peanut butter. After returning, the discussion comes to an end. My students, despite being tired and hungry, are excited about the event and eager to discuss future debates and discussions. They receive the food with gratitude; at least it is a break from routine. “When is the next debate club meeting sir?”

It’s a good thing I don’t escape too much; I might miss the good stuff.