Arrived at Kate’s house last night at 9pm, expected to get here a 7pm—imagine the travel difficulties
I mentioned that we were at this house for a celebration of Kate’s PC friend who was getting a high honor, well while there directly across the room from us was man who looked very familiar, and as we left I made a point meeting him--the next day we get in a car to take an hour drive to a town, and he was the next passenger to get in, spoke a lot on the way and he invited us to tree lighting ceremony to be held that eve, at home of john fru ndi. Did not remember but back in the mid 90s he ran for president of Cameroon and won, but current president had a recount, rigged the vote count and then he was declared winner, a couple of years of unrest and riots ensued. While we expected to sit outside and watch him plug in a Xmas tree, our friend picked us up in cab and when we arrived we were led through a large banquet hall filled with people, then past areas reserved for delegates and VIPs to a dining area with approximately 20 people, they brought in chairs for us and we ate with some very wealthy, very high public officials of the opposition party. Dinner was followed with much dancing and celebration. When time to leave were put in his private car {land rover = Limo over here} and taken home. I have told some of Kate’s friends about being there and they ask if I actually saw him, a lot of disbelief appears when I tell them we sat and dined with him.
Yesterday we traveled to a town for a funeral of Kate’s principle mother who was murdered, due to a land dispute. First we toured a local palace, sat at bar with several of Kate’s teaching friends will church service was going on. We then walked up hill to her home where they buried her about 5 feet from her home. Four young guys who throw about 6 inches of dirt in the grave and them 5 guys jump down in grave and stomp dirt to a drum beat to pack soil--they want all dirt to be replaced. This took about 2 hrs, all the while a group of ladies sang and chanted-one woman charged the grave sight screaming and wailing, was held back by young men, fell to ground, got very dirty in soil, but continued to wail for quite some time. Before we left they fed us with a traditional African meal--tried many diff foods.
The left for Kate’s home and ran into very bad traffic and it was a nightmare getting here-but sure slept good.
all for now
rich
Travel difficulties- Difficle indeed. In almost a year and a half in Cameroon I can remember being stuck in traffic on maybe two occasions. During my dad’s visit, I was stuck in a traffic at least four-five times. No doubt this was largely due to the fact that we were traveling during the holiday season. Still, it made a few travel days a lot more inconvenient than they needed to be. Had everything gone as it should have, we should have been able to leave the funeral around 2pm, leave Bamenda by 4pm, and then reach Foumbot by 7pm. Instead, we sat in traffic for at least two hours in downtown Bamenda, the gare that day was particularly stressful, and the driver of our car from Bafoussam to Foumbot, angry about having to pay another bribe, just drove off from the toll booth station. Too bad he did so before the worker pulled away the spike road blocker. 30 minutes later after a quick tire change, we were back on the road again.
Ni John Fru Ndi – Ummm yeah. Yet another example of why it’ great to be a foreigner in Africa. A brief, chance meeting and you receive a VIP invitation to a party with an already strict invite list. While I probably should have known better, I too thought the “tree lighting ceremony” would be just that. John Fru Ndi lighting a Christmas tree in the center of downtown Bamenda. I didn’t hesitate to make dinner plans with a group of PCV’s at one of our favorite restaurants, nor did I think to change out of my jeans or tell my dad to change his shorts. When Tampali picked us up from the restaurant in a three piece suit and taxi driver dropped us off in front of a gated mansion, I quickly realized my errors. Not that it really mattered, we were going to be thrown center stage regardless.
The party turned out to be a lot of fun. My dad (who hates dancing mind you) was dancing song after song with a middle-aged lady who was out of control on the dance floor. I couldn’t stop laughing and taking pictures. A few minutes after their dancing seized a friend of the woman came up to be and says “I’m so sorry Miss. I just had to pull my friend away from your father. She was going to kill him!” Really glad I got that on film. ☺ For more info on our host visit http://www.sdfparty.org/english/people/78.php
Funeral- Was in fact for my principals mother. She was the victim of a tragic incident. The principal of my school in Foumbot comes from a small village in the Northwest Region. As is common with elder sons who move away from village, they keep one or two homes there for their mother, father, wife, etc. to stay in. During the Fall my principal got into a dispute over title with a man from his village. The man claimed that my principal’s second house (in which he’d been living) was actually his. After being evicted from the home the man decided to take revenge on my principal. While it was my principal he was after that night, he entered the home and found his mother instead. The man brutally beat and shot her, then set the house on fire as he left. This sort of extreme crime is very rare here. His mother spent the next four months in a coma, but died during the second week of December. The man is still on the run but they are thankfully closing in on his whereabouts.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Round Three....my additions at the bottom....
It is noon Christmas day here and we just returned from mass at a catholic church the size of Sacred Heart in BA. Service was very much like ours except more singing and hand clapping. All in French so the sermon seemed to take forever. Service lasted 2hrs, but I very much enjoyed it. Will never complain again about long mass.
20 minutes into service, ushers placed 5 chairs on alter—in walked very large African and what I think were 4 bodyguards and sat there-with15 minutes to go they got up and left and the priest thanked them for coming—stark reminder of various classes here and how privilege sets people apart.
Yesterday was spent shopping for food at outdoor market for x-mas eve dinner hosted by kate –went with neighbor blanche, market is sheer madhouse, but Kate knows some of the vendors and if we spent 3 hrs, every 10 minutes someone greeted her that she knew’
Purchased two large chickens-the size aunt Maryann raised for dinner. As promised Kate got the knife and with help of Cameroonian friends holding the birds Kate did the honors—not even spooked when blood starts flying. I was surprised that they do not sever the head completely, until I found out they eat it too, and the entire leg’---they were sure surprised that this old Huron county farm boy knew how to clean and cut up bird.
I spent a much time cleaning veggies and kate make various spinach and veg dips. About 25 adults arrived for dinner and were reluctant to try kates stuff-her neighbor a cooked birds rice and I cooked about 20 pds of French fries==after they finished ther traditional foods they finally dove into veg and dip---some liked others not so much.
The first 3-4 days were spent in east province, which speak English-here all French, nice to be at kates and meet friends but cannot communicate’
A friend gave kate a fridge yesterday which really helped in this heat-had my first cold beer-what a treat, I will try to bring 2 home to celebrate jonathans 21st. We ran into kates landlord 2 days ago, seeing me he was again assured Kate that he would be right over to hook up her stool and sink---to show you how much muslin- influence there is in theis region, it is Christmas day and they are finally here after a year of promised to put in drain field.
We are invited to at least 5 homes today for dinner and we are expected to eat at veryone-think I will start diet as soon as arrival in states.
I should note that today in church they HAD A HUGE children’s procession up to the nativity seen-as they enterd the church from the courtyard they would see me and the stares we very comical to watch—I would not be surprised if I am the first middle aged white man they have ever seen—they look at me like they have seen a ghost.
Soccer is king over here-I have not seen a baseball, basketball or football, but soccer{they call it football}wildly POPULAR
GOT TO GO MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL YOU GUYS
Christmas mass: 2 hour mass he says? That’s nothing. Actually it is somewhat unusual for Mission Catholic; they’re pretty good at keeping it to just over an hour. I go to the Presbyterian church in town from time to time. While mass starts at 9am, every time I go I know not to have anything planned before 12pm. I still know where I’ll be then. I’ve been kind of bold about it a time or two. Some friends wanted me there for their induction (which I swear they do them every other weekend anyways). I decided it was OK to show up at ten, take some pics, and skip out by 11am. They just tease me about it a bit - Father Jack would have thrown a fit!
The people who came and went were in fact the chief of my village and his four bodyguards. I was quite surprised to see them there actually – they’re all practicing Muslims. They arrived 1 hour after the service and left just before communion. When they got up to leave the pastor did in fact thank them for coming. Social classes are very much alive here!
Market: shopping on for x-mas eve dinner was kind of fun. No doubt that’s by far the most food I’ve bought in one trip. Usually they know exactly what I’m there for – eggs, eggs, and more eggs. I’ve been meaning to take pictures of my market since I arrived there. I never did because I didn’t want to seem intrusive. I took advantage of my dad being here as my excuse to do it. Turns out, I guess I didn’t have to be - ‘market mommies’’ were lining up to get there picture taken.
X-mas eve massacre: That’s right, I got them both. While the original plan was for me to do the first one and my dad the second, he got no such chance. The kids took care of the worst part really – entering the outdoor kitchen to catch them. I was standing outside the door listening to them squabble and run around while the nbr boy was trying to catch him. While it took him all of two minutes I’m pretty sure it would have been a vegetarian dinner had that part been left up to me. Slitting the throat was easy enough I guess. The blood all went in the opposite direction too so really it was a pretty clean deal.
Rich spent all afternoon doing what he does best – appetizers. While I’m sure there were some very sad people in Michigan, feeling lost w/o their ham rollup/bac-o-nut/stuffed mushroom trio, I can tell you my neighbor Catherine was very appreciative of the Ranch dressing and spinach dip. The others……not so much…and in typical Cameroonian fashion they first refused to try them and then proceeded to tell us how much they disliked them after they did. Right….because couscous is so awesome!
Correction: The first three days were actually spent in the NorthWest region (not the East as was mentioned). The Northwest is one of two Anglophone regions here so my dad was able to communicate on his own with everyone. I warned him about speaking normally and not being understood. By day two he was a special” English expert. The secret he said: do not use contractions. By the time we reached Foumbot I was in translator mode. I had somewhat of an idea of what to expect. I’m used to having discussions with Wendy about doing it – she always has to when were with the Chinese. Sure enough I did a lot of what she does: look at the French speaker and speak English, look at the English speaker and speak French. I would get caught up in conversation in French, catch a glimpse of my poor dad just sitting there, and realize I forgot what I was suppose to be doing.
Castel beer: My dad was So excited to drink his “coldest beer yet in country”. I took a sip and realized I forgot how cold beer actually came. I’m so used to drinking warm beer here that to be honest, I didn’t even like it. Joe Cook: what did you think about the bday present???
Xmas day was eating, and more eating, and more eating. I really thought I’d get away with saying no to a plate because I knew all of them so well. No such luck. I think maybe because my dad was there I had to eat at them all too. Was way too full, but it was lots of fun!
Soccer is their life over here. I was actually at the bar yesterday watching the Cameroon v Gabon match. It was the first time I saw Cameroon lose actually. After the game one of the guys I was with was being really funny about it. He just kept repeating: “So many people who aren’t going to get any sleep now tonight” and “so many more that are going to have nightmares”. J
20 minutes into service, ushers placed 5 chairs on alter—in walked very large African and what I think were 4 bodyguards and sat there-with15 minutes to go they got up and left and the priest thanked them for coming—stark reminder of various classes here and how privilege sets people apart.
Yesterday was spent shopping for food at outdoor market for x-mas eve dinner hosted by kate –went with neighbor blanche, market is sheer madhouse, but Kate knows some of the vendors and if we spent 3 hrs, every 10 minutes someone greeted her that she knew’
Purchased two large chickens-the size aunt Maryann raised for dinner. As promised Kate got the knife and with help of Cameroonian friends holding the birds Kate did the honors—not even spooked when blood starts flying. I was surprised that they do not sever the head completely, until I found out they eat it too, and the entire leg’---they were sure surprised that this old Huron county farm boy knew how to clean and cut up bird.
I spent a much time cleaning veggies and kate make various spinach and veg dips. About 25 adults arrived for dinner and were reluctant to try kates stuff-her neighbor a cooked birds rice and I cooked about 20 pds of French fries==after they finished ther traditional foods they finally dove into veg and dip---some liked others not so much.
The first 3-4 days were spent in east province, which speak English-here all French, nice to be at kates and meet friends but cannot communicate’
A friend gave kate a fridge yesterday which really helped in this heat-had my first cold beer-what a treat, I will try to bring 2 home to celebrate jonathans 21st. We ran into kates landlord 2 days ago, seeing me he was again assured Kate that he would be right over to hook up her stool and sink---to show you how much muslin- influence there is in theis region, it is Christmas day and they are finally here after a year of promised to put in drain field.
We are invited to at least 5 homes today for dinner and we are expected to eat at veryone-think I will start diet as soon as arrival in states.
I should note that today in church they HAD A HUGE children’s procession up to the nativity seen-as they enterd the church from the courtyard they would see me and the stares we very comical to watch—I would not be surprised if I am the first middle aged white man they have ever seen—they look at me like they have seen a ghost.
Soccer is king over here-I have not seen a baseball, basketball or football, but soccer{they call it football}wildly POPULAR
GOT TO GO MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL YOU GUYS
Christmas mass: 2 hour mass he says? That’s nothing. Actually it is somewhat unusual for Mission Catholic; they’re pretty good at keeping it to just over an hour. I go to the Presbyterian church in town from time to time. While mass starts at 9am, every time I go I know not to have anything planned before 12pm. I still know where I’ll be then. I’ve been kind of bold about it a time or two. Some friends wanted me there for their induction (which I swear they do them every other weekend anyways). I decided it was OK to show up at ten, take some pics, and skip out by 11am. They just tease me about it a bit - Father Jack would have thrown a fit!
The people who came and went were in fact the chief of my village and his four bodyguards. I was quite surprised to see them there actually – they’re all practicing Muslims. They arrived 1 hour after the service and left just before communion. When they got up to leave the pastor did in fact thank them for coming. Social classes are very much alive here!
Market: shopping on for x-mas eve dinner was kind of fun. No doubt that’s by far the most food I’ve bought in one trip. Usually they know exactly what I’m there for – eggs, eggs, and more eggs. I’ve been meaning to take pictures of my market since I arrived there. I never did because I didn’t want to seem intrusive. I took advantage of my dad being here as my excuse to do it. Turns out, I guess I didn’t have to be - ‘market mommies’’ were lining up to get there picture taken.
X-mas eve massacre: That’s right, I got them both. While the original plan was for me to do the first one and my dad the second, he got no such chance. The kids took care of the worst part really – entering the outdoor kitchen to catch them. I was standing outside the door listening to them squabble and run around while the nbr boy was trying to catch him. While it took him all of two minutes I’m pretty sure it would have been a vegetarian dinner had that part been left up to me. Slitting the throat was easy enough I guess. The blood all went in the opposite direction too so really it was a pretty clean deal.
Rich spent all afternoon doing what he does best – appetizers. While I’m sure there were some very sad people in Michigan, feeling lost w/o their ham rollup/bac-o-nut/stuffed mushroom trio, I can tell you my neighbor Catherine was very appreciative of the Ranch dressing and spinach dip. The others……not so much…and in typical Cameroonian fashion they first refused to try them and then proceeded to tell us how much they disliked them after they did. Right….because couscous is so awesome!
Correction: The first three days were actually spent in the NorthWest region (not the East as was mentioned). The Northwest is one of two Anglophone regions here so my dad was able to communicate on his own with everyone. I warned him about speaking normally and not being understood. By day two he was a special” English expert. The secret he said: do not use contractions. By the time we reached Foumbot I was in translator mode. I had somewhat of an idea of what to expect. I’m used to having discussions with Wendy about doing it – she always has to when were with the Chinese. Sure enough I did a lot of what she does: look at the French speaker and speak English, look at the English speaker and speak French. I would get caught up in conversation in French, catch a glimpse of my poor dad just sitting there, and realize I forgot what I was suppose to be doing.
Castel beer: My dad was So excited to drink his “coldest beer yet in country”. I took a sip and realized I forgot how cold beer actually came. I’m so used to drinking warm beer here that to be honest, I didn’t even like it. Joe Cook: what did you think about the bday present???
Xmas day was eating, and more eating, and more eating. I really thought I’d get away with saying no to a plate because I knew all of them so well. No such luck. I think maybe because my dad was there I had to eat at them all too. Was way too full, but it was lots of fun!
Soccer is their life over here. I was actually at the bar yesterday watching the Cameroon v Gabon match. It was the first time I saw Cameroon lose actually. After the game one of the guys I was with was being really funny about it. He just kept repeating: “So many people who aren’t going to get any sleep now tonight” and “so many more that are going to have nightmares”. J
Friday, January 8, 2010
More from Rich...
As promised, more from my Dad about his travels. This time I've posted some of my own commentary on the bottom to give more background on the people we met or the places we visited. Where are all the pictures you might ask? Coming! I'm currently experiencing yet another tech problem in the cameroon. We took a ton - just have to be patient for a few weeks.
Email 2:
Back to Kate’s house after traveling to Bafoussam to meet a friend of hers – they met during her first 3 months here with and Kate recently attended her wedding (which lasted all Night). Adela and her husband jean were terrific people. We spent 3 hrs at a bar/ restaurant with them. PCV Wendy Lee joined us.
Bafoussam is huge! The traffic and vehicular is truly amazing-nothing short of organized chaos. In a town of over 1 million people there’s not one traffic light or stop sign. If think if I hear one more horn honk, I will commit hari-kari!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, I truly expected the population to be more diverse, but I would guess that I saw well over a hundred thousand people and Kate was the only white person I saw.
I have met many of Kate’s neighbors that live close and I can truly sense that they very smitten by her. The kids absolutely flock to her and the adults keep stopping by. We actually walked in opposite direction when we left her home today, as “to avoid lots of people you have not met yet”.
We will go to market tomorrow to buy groceries for Xmas eve dinner. Two live chickens still must be purchased for the main entrée. Kate still claims that with my help she will send them to the happy roosting area in the sky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Will give photos of this sacrifice to the African gods.
We missed her friend “China man” while in Bafoussam, but plans have been made to spent Sunday eve with him for Chinese din din
Got to go Happy holidays to all
THE BIG KAHHUNA
First off, I have to relate to you a story about "Bafoussam". Dad, don't hate me.
To say the very least, pronunciation of the names of African villages was not my dad's forte. I had some pretty good laughs whenever I would overhear him telling my fellow PCV's where we had been and what we had done. Day 3 of his trip, I was mid-nap on the living room couch when I heard him get up from his, walk into the living room, and then start to talk with some of my friends. Reluctant to get up yet, I simply listened as he ran-through all of what we had seen and done so far between his arrival Yaounde to our time in the NorthWest. I simply listened and chuckled to myself as he murdered the name every village in his story. However, at the point where "Bafoussam" turned into "Botswana", I had to roll over and do something about it. My friends got a good laugh out of that one, my dad's face turned a little rouge. :) As it turned out, he was a fast learner. By day 8, he could tell me in what villages and regions we had already been.
The woman we met in Bafoussam, Adela, is the owner of the cyber cafe I was assigned to work with during my first three months of stage in Bangangte. While I was only in Bangangte for the first three months of my service, Adela and I have remained good friends ever since. I try to visit her about once every three months. During one of my visits she taught me how to make couscous, and then proceeded to make me eat more of it than I ever have in my life. For anyone who's ever tried African style couscous, it's not something you need seconds of. On top of it she made me put down legumes, 30 ounces of beer, and a class of wine. "Kate you never eat" she kept saying. To that: Ahh Adela, I most certainly do, I just try to not reach the point of my stomach wanting to explode. It was all good fun really - until the very greasy three egg omelet was brought out first thing in next the morning.
Traffic signals and stop signs are extremely rare even in Yaounde and Douala. Also, should you happen to see one take a second to watch the traffic - no one pays attention to it anyways.
White people there are not in Africa. Honestly, if it's me sitting around a table with other PCV's someone points them out and then we all just stare. If it's a member of the opposite sex, we stare a lot longer. If if with Cameroonian's, they will always point them out saying "see, your sister" Really, it's possible to see quite a few when visiting Yaounde or Douala, but by this I mean maybe 10-15 per day when you've already seen 600,000 Cameroonians. Check out an older post of mine if you'd like to hear more. http://www.kateincameroon.com/2009/03/bspears.html
The part about my neighbors -- ahhh, thanks dad! Still, it has a lot to do with me being a novelty.
Both chickens, done like dinner. Yeah baby!!!
Email 2:
Back to Kate’s house after traveling to Bafoussam to meet a friend of hers – they met during her first 3 months here with and Kate recently attended her wedding (which lasted all Night). Adela and her husband jean were terrific people. We spent 3 hrs at a bar/ restaurant with them. PCV Wendy Lee joined us.
Bafoussam is huge! The traffic and vehicular is truly amazing-nothing short of organized chaos. In a town of over 1 million people there’s not one traffic light or stop sign. If think if I hear one more horn honk, I will commit hari-kari!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also, I truly expected the population to be more diverse, but I would guess that I saw well over a hundred thousand people and Kate was the only white person I saw.
I have met many of Kate’s neighbors that live close and I can truly sense that they very smitten by her. The kids absolutely flock to her and the adults keep stopping by. We actually walked in opposite direction when we left her home today, as “to avoid lots of people you have not met yet”.
We will go to market tomorrow to buy groceries for Xmas eve dinner. Two live chickens still must be purchased for the main entrée. Kate still claims that with my help she will send them to the happy roosting area in the sky!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Will give photos of this sacrifice to the African gods.
We missed her friend “China man” while in Bafoussam, but plans have been made to spent Sunday eve with him for Chinese din din
Got to go Happy holidays to all
THE BIG KAHHUNA
First off, I have to relate to you a story about "Bafoussam". Dad, don't hate me.
To say the very least, pronunciation of the names of African villages was not my dad's forte. I had some pretty good laughs whenever I would overhear him telling my fellow PCV's where we had been and what we had done. Day 3 of his trip, I was mid-nap on the living room couch when I heard him get up from his, walk into the living room, and then start to talk with some of my friends. Reluctant to get up yet, I simply listened as he ran-through all of what we had seen and done so far between his arrival Yaounde to our time in the NorthWest. I simply listened and chuckled to myself as he murdered the name every village in his story. However, at the point where "Bafoussam" turned into "Botswana", I had to roll over and do something about it. My friends got a good laugh out of that one, my dad's face turned a little rouge. :) As it turned out, he was a fast learner. By day 8, he could tell me in what villages and regions we had already been.
The woman we met in Bafoussam, Adela, is the owner of the cyber cafe I was assigned to work with during my first three months of stage in Bangangte. While I was only in Bangangte for the first three months of my service, Adela and I have remained good friends ever since. I try to visit her about once every three months. During one of my visits she taught me how to make couscous, and then proceeded to make me eat more of it than I ever have in my life. For anyone who's ever tried African style couscous, it's not something you need seconds of. On top of it she made me put down legumes, 30 ounces of beer, and a class of wine. "Kate you never eat" she kept saying. To that: Ahh Adela, I most certainly do, I just try to not reach the point of my stomach wanting to explode. It was all good fun really - until the very greasy three egg omelet was brought out first thing in next the morning.
Traffic signals and stop signs are extremely rare even in Yaounde and Douala. Also, should you happen to see one take a second to watch the traffic - no one pays attention to it anyways.
White people there are not in Africa. Honestly, if it's me sitting around a table with other PCV's someone points them out and then we all just stare. If it's a member of the opposite sex, we stare a lot longer. If if with Cameroonian's, they will always point them out saying "see, your sister" Really, it's possible to see quite a few when visiting Yaounde or Douala, but by this I mean maybe 10-15 per day when you've already seen 600,000 Cameroonians. Check out an older post of mine if you'd like to hear more. http://www.kateincameroon.com/2009/03/bspears.html
The part about my neighbors -- ahhh, thanks dad! Still, it has a lot to do with me being a novelty.
Both chickens, done like dinner. Yeah baby!!!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
I'm back! (well one Cook is anyways)
Hello to all my faithful readers! I can say that, because if you're reading this now I know you keep coming back. Its been...ahh 3 months :( since I've last posted anything about my time here in Cameroon. For that, I am truly sorry. The ironic part of it all - 3 months ago I had internet installed at my house. Yikes! I guess I should own up to the honest truth: I check my gmail account every morning, think to myself "wow it was great to hear from that person", then proceed to close out of my inbox, and that person is lucky to get a reply within three weeks time.
SO what I'm vowing to do from now until the end of my service -- keep you in the KNOW.
A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to welcome a visitor to Cameroon! Rich Cook spent a total of two weeks travelling the country with me - and to think I wasn't even sure I'd get him past baggage check! Welcoming a visitor is something that every volunteer hopes for. We get to share Cameroon with someone close to us; more importantly, someone can relate to all our strange stories when we get home! If I can say one thing about my Dad's time here it would have to be that he was an excellent sport. While sometimes I would catch a nervous stare or that of disbelief, I never once heard a complaint. Even after a "ball busting" moto ride to Lac Mystic (more on that later). While visiting it seems he picked up the spirit of blogging. I've decided that to get this blog posting in 2010 started, I'd share with you all his mass emails to family and friends. I'll introduce them in series. You get one for today - another when I get back from Rumziki in a few days. Really quick before I leave for the bus station - I want let you know that I'm currently on a tour of the North and Extreme North regions. Talk about a different part of the country! I this before coming up - that the Grand North would feel totally different- but I guess you can't really understand it until you've been here. I feel as if I've been transported into a completely different african country (Botswana maybe dad????) and that I'm finally seeing it Africa as it was before people came pouring in. More on my travel opinions later - for now, here's Rich Cook....
Email 1:
Went to 50th anniversary party of a chief yesterday, saw lots of dancing plus the organizer of event took us under his wing and we had front row seating, he led us through throngs of Cameroonians to stand very close to the chief. He has had a total of 80 wives but down to 40 now - did not meet any of the lovelies though. after the event we had a couple of beers with friends-warm-no power on Sundays, and then went to the home of one of the people who was honored at the festival with a very high award--they were all dressed in traditional bright African dress and we walked in with t-shirts and cargo shorts. But the host greeted us and insisted that we eat first-felt awkward but they have traditions that guests get special treatment- and being they only white people there we were easy to spot.!!!!!!!!
I guess I was expecting to see a more mixed race here, but both Yaoundé and the city we are in now, Bamenda, have more than a million people and I have only seen about 3 other white folk.
The poverty is what strikes you the most – and still right now we are in the wealthy part of a town with a million plus and our accommodations are modest at best.
Well all for now will leave tomorrow to another town where we are to attend a funeral-which is quite festive in Africa.
Found a beer I like for $1.00, but always warm.
To my girls at UTA, if you need to talk to me today, email back shortly, and I will make contact--after I send this I will open my g-mail-if any one is available
SO what I'm vowing to do from now until the end of my service -- keep you in the KNOW.
A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to welcome a visitor to Cameroon! Rich Cook spent a total of two weeks travelling the country with me - and to think I wasn't even sure I'd get him past baggage check! Welcoming a visitor is something that every volunteer hopes for. We get to share Cameroon with someone close to us; more importantly, someone can relate to all our strange stories when we get home! If I can say one thing about my Dad's time here it would have to be that he was an excellent sport. While sometimes I would catch a nervous stare or that of disbelief, I never once heard a complaint. Even after a "ball busting" moto ride to Lac Mystic (more on that later). While visiting it seems he picked up the spirit of blogging. I've decided that to get this blog posting in 2010 started, I'd share with you all his mass emails to family and friends. I'll introduce them in series. You get one for today - another when I get back from Rumziki in a few days. Really quick before I leave for the bus station - I want let you know that I'm currently on a tour of the North and Extreme North regions. Talk about a different part of the country! I this before coming up - that the Grand North would feel totally different- but I guess you can't really understand it until you've been here. I feel as if I've been transported into a completely different african country (Botswana maybe dad????) and that I'm finally seeing it Africa as it was before people came pouring in. More on my travel opinions later - for now, here's Rich Cook....
Email 1:
Went to 50th anniversary party of a chief yesterday, saw lots of dancing plus the organizer of event took us under his wing and we had front row seating, he led us through throngs of Cameroonians to stand very close to the chief. He has had a total of 80 wives but down to 40 now - did not meet any of the lovelies though. after the event we had a couple of beers with friends-warm-no power on Sundays, and then went to the home of one of the people who was honored at the festival with a very high award--they were all dressed in traditional bright African dress and we walked in with t-shirts and cargo shorts. But the host greeted us and insisted that we eat first-felt awkward but they have traditions that guests get special treatment- and being they only white people there we were easy to spot.!!!!!!!!
I guess I was expecting to see a more mixed race here, but both Yaoundé and the city we are in now, Bamenda, have more than a million people and I have only seen about 3 other white folk.
The poverty is what strikes you the most – and still right now we are in the wealthy part of a town with a million plus and our accommodations are modest at best.
Well all for now will leave tomorrow to another town where we are to attend a funeral-which is quite festive in Africa.
Found a beer I like for $1.00, but always warm.
To my girls at UTA, if you need to talk to me today, email back shortly, and I will make contact--after I send this I will open my g-mail-if any one is available
Monday, September 7, 2009
Books for Cameroon
Salut toute le monde!! Back from my Europe vaca (fabulous, details below..) and it's now the time to let you in on a project my friends and I have been working on steadily for the past year. As I've mentioned before when you're a new PCV your first few months at post are spent...how do I best put this...like a small child? You're completely unsure of your new surrounding-a place you're now suppose to call home. You can't possibly go to the market alone-some older more experienced PCV should certainly hold your hand. Once you finally make it to the market to buy food for the day-day is considered complete. And like the praise we give for a child reciting their ABC's or counting to 10-we feel we deserve it for using phrases outside of "Tu pars ou?". And once again what all this means: when a principal asks if you'd like to teach English at their school you instantly say "Yes!"
By early November I'd heard from many SED volunteers who had already started volunteering at their local school and by the time we could finally see each other face-to-face again at IST, we were all saying the same thing: yes we really enjoy our students, but it's so difficult when there are no books! In our post IST/"I'm still so stuffed from Christmas dinner i don't wanna move" trance not leaving our houses and diving into Internet research was a welcomed option. Over the course of the next few weeks we received several reply's back from family and friends willing to pack up all their old children's books and send them over. To them we say "Thank You" but we seem to have found a better option.
Inspired by former PCV's in South Africa who recently carried out the project we decided to launch our very own. Books for Africa, specifically Books for Cameroon. In a nutshell if we found the schools and raised the funds Books For Africa would send the books. 22,000 English textbooks a.k.a A LOT of books! Over the next few months myself and three other PCV's carefully selected five schools each that we found reliable and sufficiently equipped to receive 1000+ books. The schools were, to say the very least, elated. Many praises to Wendy who has taken on the bulk of the work thus far trying to get this project off the ground-researching, sending emails, and more emails, and more emails :) One year later the project is well under way. Where we're at now? The fundraising stage of course!
Here's where you come in and get to be a part of the project yourself. With only 10 months left in-country we've got about a month to bug everyone that we know for $$, so BFA will send the books by November/December, so we have time to properly mobilize and train 30 teaching staffs on proper library management, so 22,000 books arrive in Daoula by February/March, so we have adequate time to sort/deliver them, so that by the Fall of 2010-even before that for the summer reading programs-thousands of Cameroonian children qnd adults will have access to practically new textbooks. Two things I'm particularly excited about with this project: 1. For all the students who I know could really excel if just give the opportunity for self-study having books makes it possible 2. The quality of the textbooks is much, much better than what they're able to buy over here. Below is a list of websites that will be able to tell you more about our project. Attention teachers: there are several ways with which you can incorporate Books for Cameroon into your classroom learning. I would love to hear from you and can certainly provide additional help so please message me at katecook2@gmail.com. The Europe updates I guess will have to wait, time to eat crepes (it's like I'm still in France chez Wendy) and then it's off to Bafoussam to try and get my computer fixed. A broken computer = a volunteers worst nightmare. Wish me (it) luck that it's not the CPU! Waiting to hear from all of you.....
To learn more about the project: http://roundtwocameroon.blogspot.com/2009/05/books-for-cameroun-phase-i.html
To Make a Tax-Deductible Donation: http://www.booksforcameroon.org/
Resources for Classroom For Cameroon: http://tiny.cc/cfc1
Books For Africa: http://www.booksforafrica.org/
By early November I'd heard from many SED volunteers who had already started volunteering at their local school and by the time we could finally see each other face-to-face again at IST, we were all saying the same thing: yes we really enjoy our students, but it's so difficult when there are no books! In our post IST/"I'm still so stuffed from Christmas dinner i don't wanna move" trance not leaving our houses and diving into Internet research was a welcomed option. Over the course of the next few weeks we received several reply's back from family and friends willing to pack up all their old children's books and send them over. To them we say "Thank You" but we seem to have found a better option.
Inspired by former PCV's in South Africa who recently carried out the project we decided to launch our very own. Books for Africa, specifically Books for Cameroon. In a nutshell if we found the schools and raised the funds Books For Africa would send the books. 22,000 English textbooks a.k.a A LOT of books! Over the next few months myself and three other PCV's carefully selected five schools each that we found reliable and sufficiently equipped to receive 1000+ books. The schools were, to say the very least, elated. Many praises to Wendy who has taken on the bulk of the work thus far trying to get this project off the ground-researching, sending emails, and more emails, and more emails :) One year later the project is well under way. Where we're at now? The fundraising stage of course!
Here's where you come in and get to be a part of the project yourself. With only 10 months left in-country we've got about a month to bug everyone that we know for $$, so BFA will send the books by November/December, so we have time to properly mobilize and train 30 teaching staffs on proper library management, so 22,000 books arrive in Daoula by February/March, so we have adequate time to sort/deliver them, so that by the Fall of 2010-even before that for the summer reading programs-thousands of Cameroonian children qnd adults will have access to practically new textbooks. Two things I'm particularly excited about with this project: 1. For all the students who I know could really excel if just give the opportunity for self-study having books makes it possible 2. The quality of the textbooks is much, much better than what they're able to buy over here. Below is a list of websites that will be able to tell you more about our project. Attention teachers: there are several ways with which you can incorporate Books for Cameroon into your classroom learning. I would love to hear from you and can certainly provide additional help so please message me at katecook2@gmail.com. The Europe updates I guess will have to wait, time to eat crepes (it's like I'm still in France chez Wendy) and then it's off to Bafoussam to try and get my computer fixed. A broken computer = a volunteers worst nightmare. Wish me (it) luck that it's not the CPU! Waiting to hear from all of you.....
To learn more about the project: http://roundtwocameroon.blogspot.com/2009/05/books-for-cameroun-phase-i.html
To Make a Tax-Deductible Donation: http://www.booksforcameroon.org/
Resources for Classroom For Cameroon: http://tiny.cc/cfc1
Books For Africa: http://www.booksforafrica.org/
Thursday, August 13, 2009
J’ai fait une faute!
So I logged onto my blog today to make a post about Books for Cameroon but before I posted I noticed two comments from the last one. As I excited as I get about receiving those things I opened them first thing. Yet what I found struck my attention and not necessarily in a good way. The comment (posted below) immediately made me go back for a re-read of what I had said. What I discovered: a mess of thoughts and personal experiences assembled in a poorly constructed paragraph. My initial thought: what was I drunk? When writing a blog I typically do it over the course of a day or so. I come back and forth between writing and my other activities, sometimes not even picking up where I left off. I always give a quick proof-read before posting, but clearly, this one snuck under the radar. So before you get to hear all about one of our most recent projects here in Cameroon you get to read a clearer and I hope more reasonable explanation of what I mean. What I previously wrote can be found under the last post, 525,600 minutes, skip down to the header “American really like to travel”. The comment read as follows:
I love to read PCV blogs but sometimes I don't understand your reasoning. For somebody who lives in the country, you agree that finance is the primary problem for not traveling. They don't travel since they don't have the money to go in hotels and resorts. but at least they do send their kids in another city/village where the kids can see something else. And I sincerely think it is more important to teach them to save the money for important issues such kid's school fees, hospital bills etc... than to go visit some place. Even here in the US, people who travel are the one who can afford it or use their credits card for it. I think giving the opportunities/advantages we have, they would like traveling too.
First off what the header should have been: Americans really get to travel! Not that we like to travel (because who doesn’t) but rather that we simply can. A large percentage of us Westerns are able to do it because we have the financial means to pay for it. For the most part traveling is not cheap and even with a possible “free” trip that you’ve won someone’s ultimately paying for it. During my first few months at post I didn’t think twice about telling fellow villagers where I was going. To bafoussam for the day for work, batie, bangangte, babajou, bamenda, etc for the weekend, Yaounde for PC administrative stuff, Kribi for IST, Limbe or the East for some R&R; If someone asked me what I was doing during the week I told them. However after realizing that most people here never get the opportunity, that in my one year’s time here I’ve seen more of their country than they might ever get to, I stopped. It was no longer exciting to tell people I was visiting somewhere else in Cameroon, it just made me feel bad.
When I said “It’s engrained in our culture...experiencing life outside your own culture is information you can’t get in the classroom” I simply think that’s neat. When given such an opportunity to travel and expose oneself to other parts of the world I think it’s great that we encourage one another to do it. My Peace Corps service is a great example. Its American tax-payer dollars which keep Peace Corps running thus, by deciding to do so we must have some belief that what the program seeks to achieve is actually worthwhile. Goals 1, 2, and 3 which have never once changed in PC’s 40+ years speak not only of the technical work volunteers do but of the importance of sharing in and exchanging different cultures. We view Peace Corps as more than just another development agency. The value in sending volunteers lies not only in what we do for the countries we serve but for the stories and better understanding we bring back home. On a side note this truth does create some confusion for some HCN’s I’ve met. If they’re not greeting me as nassara (the white) strangers in village are calling me jharra (money). To them white man = money. If I didn’t have money how else could I have afforded to come to Africa? I’ve had countless conversations with people here on what the Peace Corps is and what exactly I’m doing here. I always make it a point to say it’s the US government who sent us here, which will continue to support us financially during our time here, and that our salaries and lifestyle are no where near that of expats. This moto helmet I’m carrying is not because I own one! I tell them that many of us were students before and possibly will be right after, that we’ve racked up hefty debts of our own, and that without our government paying for it, most of us would not have been able to come to Cameroon. I admit that while it’s true America is a very wealthy nation not everyone in America has money. We too have people that live on the street because they’re unable to pay for rent (look of surprise usually follows here). Malheureusement, sometimes even after all this, I still feel like they don’t believe me. For the people I’ve met who have a good understanding of Peace Corps, they welcome it with open arms and are thankful for the work we are doing. As one of my favorite neighbors likes to tell me “You Americans, you are just so nice!” I myself am extremely grateful a program like Peace Corps exists which will allow me to experience life in an African country for two whole years. If not, jharra wouldn’t have been able to do it.
“People here rarely travel….” True statement. When they do it’s again most often for the reasons that followed. This is to no fault of their own and I am not in any way looking down on it or wondering “why aren’t you people traveling!?” When money is limited it’s certainly more important to spend it on the necessities. Food, housing, school fees, illness, etc should always come first. Yesterday’s session of my business class was actually “Saving and financial services”. We talked a lot about the importance of saving, ways to cut down on unnecessary expenditures, and where to put all that money you’ve saved by doing so. On the list reasons to save: expense of everyday necessities, unexpected illness or accident, annual school fees, and for re-investing in other income generating projects. On the list of ways to cut back: buy food on market day, buy less beer, spend less on phone credit, and viola…spend less on transport. I have no doubt that people here wouldn’t jump at the chance of being able to take a vacation or that they wouldn’t enjoy it, but when it comes down financial responsibilities vacations are never on the top of the list. The remark about “saving petite a petite” comes from personal experiences I’ve had at post. Just like in the States when your friends complain about all the things you’re able to buy and then it’s these exact same friends you watch blow their money on tons of unnecessary (and often stupid) expenditures you want to throw that right back at them. People I know well tell me I get to travel too much and look at me like it’s never a possibility for them. To some of them I want to say “then don’t spend your money on the three beers I know you drank last night, don’t get your hair done almost every week, don’t take motos all around town when you could walk, and then call your relative up and tell them you’re coming to visit with the money you’ve saved.” It’s certainly not everyone I’m talking of here and I’m still not saying I agree a vacation is the first place their hard earned money should go, but if they want to and they’ve earned it, why not?
So I hope by now I’ve better explained where I was trying to go with that paragraph the first time. For my friends and family back home to whom this blog is intended I know you know I meant nothing demeaning by it, as the paragraph sounded to me my second time through, AND I don’t doubt that you can now picture me going back in forth between the computer, and this task, and another task, and yet another task (just as I did with this one) and wondering “What is kate cook doing?”
I love to read PCV blogs but sometimes I don't understand your reasoning. For somebody who lives in the country, you agree that finance is the primary problem for not traveling. They don't travel since they don't have the money to go in hotels and resorts. but at least they do send their kids in another city/village where the kids can see something else. And I sincerely think it is more important to teach them to save the money for important issues such kid's school fees, hospital bills etc... than to go visit some place. Even here in the US, people who travel are the one who can afford it or use their credits card for it. I think giving the opportunities/advantages we have, they would like traveling too.
First off what the header should have been: Americans really get to travel! Not that we like to travel (because who doesn’t) but rather that we simply can. A large percentage of us Westerns are able to do it because we have the financial means to pay for it. For the most part traveling is not cheap and even with a possible “free” trip that you’ve won someone’s ultimately paying for it. During my first few months at post I didn’t think twice about telling fellow villagers where I was going. To bafoussam for the day for work, batie, bangangte, babajou, bamenda, etc for the weekend, Yaounde for PC administrative stuff, Kribi for IST, Limbe or the East for some R&R; If someone asked me what I was doing during the week I told them. However after realizing that most people here never get the opportunity, that in my one year’s time here I’ve seen more of their country than they might ever get to, I stopped. It was no longer exciting to tell people I was visiting somewhere else in Cameroon, it just made me feel bad.
When I said “It’s engrained in our culture...experiencing life outside your own culture is information you can’t get in the classroom” I simply think that’s neat. When given such an opportunity to travel and expose oneself to other parts of the world I think it’s great that we encourage one another to do it. My Peace Corps service is a great example. Its American tax-payer dollars which keep Peace Corps running thus, by deciding to do so we must have some belief that what the program seeks to achieve is actually worthwhile. Goals 1, 2, and 3 which have never once changed in PC’s 40+ years speak not only of the technical work volunteers do but of the importance of sharing in and exchanging different cultures. We view Peace Corps as more than just another development agency. The value in sending volunteers lies not only in what we do for the countries we serve but for the stories and better understanding we bring back home. On a side note this truth does create some confusion for some HCN’s I’ve met. If they’re not greeting me as nassara (the white) strangers in village are calling me jharra (money). To them white man = money. If I didn’t have money how else could I have afforded to come to Africa? I’ve had countless conversations with people here on what the Peace Corps is and what exactly I’m doing here. I always make it a point to say it’s the US government who sent us here, which will continue to support us financially during our time here, and that our salaries and lifestyle are no where near that of expats. This moto helmet I’m carrying is not because I own one! I tell them that many of us were students before and possibly will be right after, that we’ve racked up hefty debts of our own, and that without our government paying for it, most of us would not have been able to come to Cameroon. I admit that while it’s true America is a very wealthy nation not everyone in America has money. We too have people that live on the street because they’re unable to pay for rent (look of surprise usually follows here). Malheureusement, sometimes even after all this, I still feel like they don’t believe me. For the people I’ve met who have a good understanding of Peace Corps, they welcome it with open arms and are thankful for the work we are doing. As one of my favorite neighbors likes to tell me “You Americans, you are just so nice!” I myself am extremely grateful a program like Peace Corps exists which will allow me to experience life in an African country for two whole years. If not, jharra wouldn’t have been able to do it.
“People here rarely travel….” True statement. When they do it’s again most often for the reasons that followed. This is to no fault of their own and I am not in any way looking down on it or wondering “why aren’t you people traveling!?” When money is limited it’s certainly more important to spend it on the necessities. Food, housing, school fees, illness, etc should always come first. Yesterday’s session of my business class was actually “Saving and financial services”. We talked a lot about the importance of saving, ways to cut down on unnecessary expenditures, and where to put all that money you’ve saved by doing so. On the list reasons to save: expense of everyday necessities, unexpected illness or accident, annual school fees, and for re-investing in other income generating projects. On the list of ways to cut back: buy food on market day, buy less beer, spend less on phone credit, and viola…spend less on transport. I have no doubt that people here wouldn’t jump at the chance of being able to take a vacation or that they wouldn’t enjoy it, but when it comes down financial responsibilities vacations are never on the top of the list. The remark about “saving petite a petite” comes from personal experiences I’ve had at post. Just like in the States when your friends complain about all the things you’re able to buy and then it’s these exact same friends you watch blow their money on tons of unnecessary (and often stupid) expenditures you want to throw that right back at them. People I know well tell me I get to travel too much and look at me like it’s never a possibility for them. To some of them I want to say “then don’t spend your money on the three beers I know you drank last night, don’t get your hair done almost every week, don’t take motos all around town when you could walk, and then call your relative up and tell them you’re coming to visit with the money you’ve saved.” It’s certainly not everyone I’m talking of here and I’m still not saying I agree a vacation is the first place their hard earned money should go, but if they want to and they’ve earned it, why not?
So I hope by now I’ve better explained where I was trying to go with that paragraph the first time. For my friends and family back home to whom this blog is intended I know you know I meant nothing demeaning by it, as the paragraph sounded to me my second time through, AND I don’t doubt that you can now picture me going back in forth between the computer, and this task, and another task, and yet another task (just as I did with this one) and wondering “What is kate cook doing?”
Friday, July 24, 2009
526,000 minutes
525,600 minutes
525,000 moments so dear
525,600 minutes – how do you measure, measure a year?
I’m sure you’ve all heard it before. The opening lines to a song made famous by Broadway’s cast of RENT. I myself have seen it played out in action at the Wharton, have sang along to it a thousand times, often reflect mid-song on how that year has been playing out for me, and this year I find it means something entirely different. I’ve told myself to start this post everyday during the past few weeks and each time I’ve put it off because I didn’t know where to start. For example, I just spent the past thirty minutes looking through old pictures from my stage’s time in training and thinking (well a. how clean we all were and b. how much our hair has changed!) but mostly how glad I am that this year simply happened. Right now as I’m writing this I’m spending yet another night in, without electricity since 7:00pm although luckily after just having prepared another dinner of a plate of rice and tomats, and dealing with a sore head because I finally took the plunge and put that Rasta in my hair that I’ve been talking about doing for a year. Another typical night in Cameroon and after doing it for a year, I'm really glad I understand what it’s like to live it. Two weeks ago I taught two days worth of HIV/GYD sessions to the new stagiers (aka me 13 months ago). It was crazy seeing how clean and refined they all looked, funny hearing them ask the exact same questions I too was wondering last year, having them so up-to-date on American pop culture (weird), and realizing they had no idea where they’d be living for the next two years, Hah! (although they have since found out by now). I tried to answer as many of their questions as I could but for the most part I kept thinking “you’ll figure it out soon enough for yourself”.
As I've mentioned several times before, each passing day here brings about at least one random event; which is always fun. In this past year I've certainly spent a lot more time doing everyday tasks around the house because they take so much longer to do. I’ve practically become immune to becoming frustrated or angry over some sort of system not working efficiently, sometimes I can’t really believe I spend my whole day communicating in French, and I often think of how peculiar it will be readjusting in America. The stories are endless and better told in person thus I’ll keep to writing in my journal so as not to forget them before I get back! Looking really forward to the year to come but that’s not to say I won’t feel that in a year it's time to go home. A few paragraphs below on random stuff that I thought worth mentioning. Off to Europe in three weeks time!!!! See ya soon Mom/Joe/Rach!!!
Something that came to mind when writing this post: all the posts I didn’t get around to posting. A few things I could have written entire blogs about but instead you’ll be getting the short and sweet version. Curious to know...have they ever happened to you???
Feeling really homesick. It hit me when I was about eight months in but it was a feeling I’d never really felt before. I was past the point where everything around me was new and exciting, I was used to the lack of technology and modern day conveniences, I finally started to feel somewhat at home at my post but the daily stuff we have to deal with (harassment because you look different, constantly being asked for either money, a relationship, or both, not being able to understand 100% of what was said in a conversation, nothing ever going as planned, the slow pace of life, etc.) was really getting to me. I really missed having more than two hours a week of internet, making an actual phone call rather just sending a text (even in country they’re expensive), cold drinks from a refrigerator, comfortable furniture, American food and how convenient it is to make (or better yet have it delivered), and of course machines that do everything for you. For the most part it all stemmed from not being able to see any family or friends back home for almost a year and thankfully now that I’m on the homestretch, the homesick feelings have subsided. Still, if I hadn’t gotten so good at “not giving a shit anymore” I’d be right back where I was. As one of my good friends here would say: Sometimes living here just sucks!
2. What I know now, that I didn’t know then. This one’s inspired by Oprah’s pocket book my mother gifted me before I left. ☺ In brief: I love democracies (real ones), customer service is Nice, no matter how bad our economy might get it can’t get this bad, education is key but equally if not more important, how it’s applied, I’m an American citizen = I have endless opportunity, I’m American = I’m exposed to a ridiculous amount of variety, we have it ridiculously easy when it comes to finding ways to entertain ourselves, and if you want development you’ve got to have infrastructure, and less corruption on every level, that helps too. ☺
3. Americans really like to travel! We’re accustomed to people telling us they’re going to one place or another. Whether for a vacation, work, study abroad, internship, etc. we Westerners have the financial means and the notion that seeing the world is a good thing. Experiencing life outside your culture is information you can’t get in the classroom. In Cameroon however, it’s quite the opposite. People here rarely travel. They might for a marriage or funeral, if someone’s sick, or possibly for work. The kids get their chance during the summer months when they’re shipped off au village to live with another family member. Just the other day I learned that the farthest my 14 year old neighbor-friend has been from Foumbot is 35km away! The principal cause is obvious: lack of capital. Still there isn’t the mentality that if you really want to visit someplace, if it’s important to you, that if you save your Cfa “petit a petit”, you might actually be able to get there. Yet another micro-finance conversation.
4. Watching my house gradually fall apart. That’s right. My house was finished only two days before I moved in and yet immediately, it started falling apart. The plaster from my kitchen ceiling was the first thing to go. Every morning for months while heating water for my morning coffee, I’d be wiping a large pile of it off my cutting board. A large wooden overhang for hanging curtains was next. That decided to completely fall off the wall during one of my French tutoring sessions. A cracked window pane in my kitchen that was caused by the large gusts of wind that come through when it storms. Holes in my cement floor- several . Cracks in the walls that go on for several inches – everywhere. The toilet/shower/sink combo, none of which has ever worked properly and at least one of which seems to present a new and different at least once a month – depuis Fevrier. One of my living room windows sliding completely off the hinges to then shattering on my floor when I was only trying to open it – last month. More plaster falling from the ceiling in kitchen and now the living room – present. Cameroonian construction is not a matter of science. My contribution to the whole mess? Nail holes in the wall. Pablo Costa, you’d be happy to know your care package photos are up partout ma maison!
5. Scaring children. Now this a fun one. My morning runs take me out to the more remote quartiers where people, in particular the children, don’t make it into town on a regular basis. Hence the probability that they’ve seen a white person before, highly diminished. On three separate occasions that I can remember I’ve had kids crying and running in the opposite direction. The second was definitely my favorite. As a rounded a corner I spotted a mother and her 4 year old daughter walking ahead me. The daughter turns around, takes one look at me, and starts screaming bloody murder. She clings frantically to her mother who then turns around to discover it’s only me. In the little girl’s mind I’m sure I was an alien with weird devices sticking out of her ears and unfortunately for her, I’m running in their direction. The screaming, crying, and grasping only intensify as I get closer. For the little girls sake I pretend not to even notice them at all and as I pass, I can hear the mother giggling to herself. Oh Cameroon!
525,000 moments so dear
525,600 minutes – how do you measure, measure a year?
I’m sure you’ve all heard it before. The opening lines to a song made famous by Broadway’s cast of RENT. I myself have seen it played out in action at the Wharton, have sang along to it a thousand times, often reflect mid-song on how that year has been playing out for me, and this year I find it means something entirely different. I’ve told myself to start this post everyday during the past few weeks and each time I’ve put it off because I didn’t know where to start. For example, I just spent the past thirty minutes looking through old pictures from my stage’s time in training and thinking (well a. how clean we all were and b. how much our hair has changed!) but mostly how glad I am that this year simply happened. Right now as I’m writing this I’m spending yet another night in, without electricity since 7:00pm although luckily after just having prepared another dinner of a plate of rice and tomats, and dealing with a sore head because I finally took the plunge and put that Rasta in my hair that I’ve been talking about doing for a year. Another typical night in Cameroon and after doing it for a year, I'm really glad I understand what it’s like to live it. Two weeks ago I taught two days worth of HIV/GYD sessions to the new stagiers (aka me 13 months ago). It was crazy seeing how clean and refined they all looked, funny hearing them ask the exact same questions I too was wondering last year, having them so up-to-date on American pop culture (weird), and realizing they had no idea where they’d be living for the next two years, Hah! (although they have since found out by now). I tried to answer as many of their questions as I could but for the most part I kept thinking “you’ll figure it out soon enough for yourself”.
As I've mentioned several times before, each passing day here brings about at least one random event; which is always fun. In this past year I've certainly spent a lot more time doing everyday tasks around the house because they take so much longer to do. I’ve practically become immune to becoming frustrated or angry over some sort of system not working efficiently, sometimes I can’t really believe I spend my whole day communicating in French, and I often think of how peculiar it will be readjusting in America. The stories are endless and better told in person thus I’ll keep to writing in my journal so as not to forget them before I get back! Looking really forward to the year to come but that’s not to say I won’t feel that in a year it's time to go home. A few paragraphs below on random stuff that I thought worth mentioning. Off to Europe in three weeks time!!!! See ya soon Mom/Joe/Rach!!!
Something that came to mind when writing this post: all the posts I didn’t get around to posting. A few things I could have written entire blogs about but instead you’ll be getting the short and sweet version. Curious to know...have they ever happened to you???
Feeling really homesick. It hit me when I was about eight months in but it was a feeling I’d never really felt before. I was past the point where everything around me was new and exciting, I was used to the lack of technology and modern day conveniences, I finally started to feel somewhat at home at my post but the daily stuff we have to deal with (harassment because you look different, constantly being asked for either money, a relationship, or both, not being able to understand 100% of what was said in a conversation, nothing ever going as planned, the slow pace of life, etc.) was really getting to me. I really missed having more than two hours a week of internet, making an actual phone call rather just sending a text (even in country they’re expensive), cold drinks from a refrigerator, comfortable furniture, American food and how convenient it is to make (or better yet have it delivered), and of course machines that do everything for you. For the most part it all stemmed from not being able to see any family or friends back home for almost a year and thankfully now that I’m on the homestretch, the homesick feelings have subsided. Still, if I hadn’t gotten so good at “not giving a shit anymore” I’d be right back where I was. As one of my good friends here would say: Sometimes living here just sucks!
2. What I know now, that I didn’t know then. This one’s inspired by Oprah’s pocket book my mother gifted me before I left. ☺ In brief: I love democracies (real ones), customer service is Nice, no matter how bad our economy might get it can’t get this bad, education is key but equally if not more important, how it’s applied, I’m an American citizen = I have endless opportunity, I’m American = I’m exposed to a ridiculous amount of variety, we have it ridiculously easy when it comes to finding ways to entertain ourselves, and if you want development you’ve got to have infrastructure, and less corruption on every level, that helps too. ☺
3. Americans really like to travel! We’re accustomed to people telling us they’re going to one place or another. Whether for a vacation, work, study abroad, internship, etc. we Westerners have the financial means and the notion that seeing the world is a good thing. Experiencing life outside your culture is information you can’t get in the classroom. In Cameroon however, it’s quite the opposite. People here rarely travel. They might for a marriage or funeral, if someone’s sick, or possibly for work. The kids get their chance during the summer months when they’re shipped off au village to live with another family member. Just the other day I learned that the farthest my 14 year old neighbor-friend has been from Foumbot is 35km away! The principal cause is obvious: lack of capital. Still there isn’t the mentality that if you really want to visit someplace, if it’s important to you, that if you save your Cfa “petit a petit”, you might actually be able to get there. Yet another micro-finance conversation.
4. Watching my house gradually fall apart. That’s right. My house was finished only two days before I moved in and yet immediately, it started falling apart. The plaster from my kitchen ceiling was the first thing to go. Every morning for months while heating water for my morning coffee, I’d be wiping a large pile of it off my cutting board. A large wooden overhang for hanging curtains was next. That decided to completely fall off the wall during one of my French tutoring sessions. A cracked window pane in my kitchen that was caused by the large gusts of wind that come through when it storms. Holes in my cement floor- several . Cracks in the walls that go on for several inches – everywhere. The toilet/shower/sink combo, none of which has ever worked properly and at least one of which seems to present a new and different at least once a month – depuis Fevrier. One of my living room windows sliding completely off the hinges to then shattering on my floor when I was only trying to open it – last month. More plaster falling from the ceiling in kitchen and now the living room – present. Cameroonian construction is not a matter of science. My contribution to the whole mess? Nail holes in the wall. Pablo Costa, you’d be happy to know your care package photos are up partout ma maison!
5. Scaring children. Now this a fun one. My morning runs take me out to the more remote quartiers where people, in particular the children, don’t make it into town on a regular basis. Hence the probability that they’ve seen a white person before, highly diminished. On three separate occasions that I can remember I’ve had kids crying and running in the opposite direction. The second was definitely my favorite. As a rounded a corner I spotted a mother and her 4 year old daughter walking ahead me. The daughter turns around, takes one look at me, and starts screaming bloody murder. She clings frantically to her mother who then turns around to discover it’s only me. In the little girl’s mind I’m sure I was an alien with weird devices sticking out of her ears and unfortunately for her, I’m running in their direction. The screaming, crying, and grasping only intensify as I get closer. For the little girls sake I pretend not to even notice them at all and as I pass, I can hear the mother giggling to herself. Oh Cameroon!
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