When I boarded the plane from Windhoek, Namibia, to the United States, I knew I was stepping into an experience that would change the way I see the world. This is my first time in America, and I am honored to be the first Namibian fellow to participate in this program. Still, nothing could fully prepare me for that first week. The smells, the sounds, the pace of life – everything felt both familiar from television and movies, yet completely new when lived in person.
My first impression came even before I left the airport: the sheer size of everything. The buildings seemed taller, the roads wider and even the coffee cups were supersized. Back home in Namibia, we pride ourselves on being a small but proud nation, where distances between people often feel shorter because some of our communities are so tightly knit. In America, space seems to dominate life – from sprawling freeways to endless parking lots to the size of a single meal.
It is often the smallest details that highlight cultural differences. One I noticed quickly was how freely Americans make small talk. At first, I didn’t know what to make of the casual greetings from strangers, but I’ve come to appreciate the warmth hidden in those quick exchanges.
Food has been another adjustment. Bread and dairy products seem to be everywhere, and meals are hearty, practical and often focused on comfort. The taste is different from what I’m used to, but food here is not just about eating – it is a reflection of identity, culture and community.
And then there is the weather. Driving through northern Minnesota, the fog and dew reminded me so much of Walvis Bay in Namibia. Both are small towns by the water, shaped by fishing, tourism and a deep connection to nature. For a brief moment, I felt at home thousands of miles away.
One of the things that struck me most is how simple homes in Minnesota look. The ones I have seen are neat, modest and practical-built for comfort rather than grandeur. Most homes have no boundary walls or fences, giving neighborhoods an open, communal feel. This simplicity extends to clothing, too. People tend to dress casually wherever they go, whether to the grocery store, on a hike or even to work. In Namibia, we tend to dress differently depending on the occasion, with careful attention to presentation. Seeing this effortless approach made me reflect on how simplicity can also be a form of elegance for different people.
A highlight of my first week was visiting a local school. In the hallways, large signs carried the words Truth, Wisdom, Love, Respect and Humility. It struck me that education here is not only about textbooks, but also about shaping values. That reminder made me think of my daughter, Nomzamo, who loves painting and drawing and inspires me to pay closer attention to the arts. I thought about the values I hope she carries with her – kindness, curiosity and courage.
As a journalist, I was also eager to observe how American media operates. From visiting Minnesota Public Radio to walking through the newsroom of the Star Tribune, I could feel the weight of journalism in a democracy that is loud, divided, and deeply engaged. It made me reflect on Namibia’s media landscape – smaller and younger, but equally vital in holding power to account.
In conversations with American journalists, I was reminded of the universal challenges our profession faces: declining trust, financial pressures, and the constant demand to adapt to digital change. Yet, I also saw how deeply journalism is woven into the American democratic fabric. That realization strengthened my belief in the role media must play back home.
One thing is certain: no matter where I go, I carry Namibia with me. As the first Namibian fellow in this program, I feel a special responsibility to represent my country. Whether it’s introducing myself as a fellow from “a beautiful desert nation in southern Africa with diverse cultures,” or simply sharing stories about home, I feel both proud and humbled. This fellowship is not only about discovering America – it is also about bringing Namibia into conversations and reminding people that our voices matter on the global stage.
My first week has been full of surprises, culture shocks and lessons that I am still processing. But above all, it has taught me that curiosity is the best passport. The weeks ahead promise more travel, more conversations and more moments of reflection. There are still bigger cities and states to see – New York, San Francisco, Austin, Washington, D.C., Chicago, and Alaska – but so far, so good. I am ready to keep learning, questioning, and connecting-both as a journalist and as a human being.
As I continue this journey, I hold onto something simple but powerful: whether in Namibia or America, it is kindness and humility that carry us furthest.
