Track & Field, Namibia style

Well, it’s track and field season here, but sports are very, very, very different in Namibia in terms of, well, everything! (I must note that it’s imperative to have a sense of humor while reading this.) I’m an athletic “coach” here, and our town just hosted a meet this Saturday morning with three other schools close by. The facilities are actually not bad; the track is 400 meters (or so it seems), made of rocky dirt and some weeds, and there is some stadium seating. Before this meet took place I met with other athletics coaches and we discussed such things as what equipment we have, how we will pay for items such as renting a speaker system and a tent, and who we can borrow a truck from for the day to haul things from place to place. Between the four schools we had two javelins, one shotput (they use big rocks when this isn’t available), and the stand for high jump (but no mats) –-that’s it. We ended up using a pile of old bed mattresses for the high jump (but I think just about everyone opted for the scissor kick instead of the fosbury flop anyway). Somehow we got a starter gun, although I have no idea where it came from. My former teammates would’ve cringed at the way the javelins were thrown, but long jump looked like it was successful. They raked the sand with sticks and an old shovel. At no point was any distance measured (although things like sticks and flip flops were used to mark who was ahead in the field events) including the track distances so it was just approximation and guesswork. The learners drew the lanes with chalk, as well as the finish line, so it was a bit messy anyway. (The only staggered starts I saw were for the 200 but they didn’t look right from where I was standing.) Will and I were the timers, but we quickly discovered that times don’t matter here and the only thing being recorded were the names of the top 2 finishers (in each of the three age groups) so they could advance to next weekend’s meet with more schools. This means that most runners, when they saw they weren’t in 1st or 2nd, just gave up. The performances were not anything exceptional, but I must note that these kids get very little sleep, not enough water or food, and they haven’t trained at all unless you count copious walking (aside from two very confusing weeks where I attempted to coach them to almost no avail due to the language barrier and their inexperience with the type running program that I’m used to). They also run barefoot, and I was astounded that no one got seriously injured on the big and little rocks on the track. But then, I’ve witnessed them run through glass with no problem so I guess they can handle rocks! The “best” part about this though is that at 1:00, the athletes left to go get food (this is a hostel/overnight school so they are fed at the school cafeteria) and the other teachers/officials decided the meet was over. After I sat in the sun all day waiting for my favorite, the 800 meters, and after all my efforts to get my learners to try it out, a teacher at my school announced that they would “just assume the 1500 meter winners would have been the winners of the 800 too” and “no one is probably going to do the 3,000 and 5,000 meters anyway.” Meet over. (Yep, I officially miss UVM track and field!) Now, at least, I can understand why no one was enthused about track and field though: there’s no incentive to try it because it’s clearly embarrassing and considered a failure for them to get anything other than 1st or 2nd, they aren’t trained to understand their event or gain confidence, they aren’t timed or marked so they have no idea if they’re improving, and the season is over (after 2 weeks) for everyone except the winners, who have a good chance of ending their season next weekend anyway. It’s frustrating but also rather amusing to witness how different something I thought was so simple can be! I’ve always held onto the idea that track and field (especially running) is the great sport equalizer: anyone can do it at anytime and no equipment or facility is absolutely necessary. It’s not like equestrian, gymnastics, or even soccer (they use crunched up pieces of paper for a ball here sometimes) where if you’re the “best” it’s only because billions of others didn’t have the same opportunities as you. I still maintain that track is about as close as it gets, but now I understand how much really goes into the participation, success, and inspiration of the track and field athlete: the knowledge gained from experience, reading, observing, other athletes and above all good coaching, and it’s more clear than ever just how lucky I have been in my running career.