Reporting From Post

It’s been quite a while since I last wrote and so much has happened. My last post was just before thanksgiving, had just gotten back from site visit and was still a stagiere and very much ready for it all to end. Well, now as I write this, I am sitting in my new house (have been here for almost two weeks), as a real life volunteer, listening to bbc radio, with a glass of wine in hand and a little kitten purring in my lap.

Lets start from where I left off.

Thanksgiving- was a hit. Everyone divided into various groups and dispersed throughout the various homestay houses to bake, shake and well, start the festivities if you know what I mean. The 11 chickens were killed and cooked, pies were baked in large metal marmites (large pots put over a fire or gas stove, the pie pan is placed in the pot on little metal tomato paste cans, rocks or sand), potatoes were mashed, stuffing was stuffed, and the instructors, stagieres and volunteers gathered and gave thanks with a fully satisfying and frankly, impressive feast, complete with a joyous performance from our very own stage band “les aulocodes” or for those of you who are French impaired, the cane rats.

The morning after- everyone had to force themselves out of bed at the crack of dawn, for better or worse, for a session on volunteer cross collaboration and then loaded into 3 peace corps safari vehicles to embark on a trip to the northwest province for the weekend. We stopped in bafoussam for a quick shopping spree at the white man store (super marche) for the perfect and trop trop cher dejeuner of whole wheat bread, sausage, real cheese, mustard, Pringles and beer and were on our way onward and upward and feeling more and more car sick as the paved roads turned to dirt, the lush hills turned to rolling savannah, the weather became dryer, the sun hotter and the francais suddenly became anglais or rather, pigeon English. We had pee stops, vomit stops, stops at check points to be bombarded by the vendors on the side of the road who force their goods (pineapple, peanuts, fruit noir, kola nuts, bananas) into the windows of your car, and we had stops to maneuver our way around cars stuck in holes or broken down enroute. There were a couple of close calls with sink holes that could swallow a car, puddles that an elephant could bath in, and rickety plank bridges that even the best gymnast might loose balance. But with our skilled drivers, we continued on safely to see the savannah turn to hills again or oddly shaped, lumpy mountains with beautiful string like water falls dispersed throughout. While the landscape was beautiful, the ride was treacherous, Sitting sideways in the back of a safari vehicle with windows that barely crack open. I have never fell so car sick in my life but, thank the lord, after eight hours we arrived to our destination, kumba. We stayed in kumba in the merryland hotel, it was so so so cold at night. And during the day went further up the hill to riba. This is the scenic location of an agricultural and agroforestry center that was started by a peace corps volunteer about ten years ago. We were greeted by some very friendly dogs and the center director riba George. A phenomenal Anglophone farmer who was our host for the weekend. He gave us the grand tour of the center, the farm, the livestock, and the view from the top of the hill. I felt like I was a character in the sound of music with the open rolling hills all around. Riba George answered our questions about agroforestry and imparted his wisdom on us, “produce what you consume, and consume what you produce.” A line I found very appropriate to our work here in Cameroon but also feel that many people around the world could learn a little from. Also, Did you know that the Sahara desert (which northern Cameroon is part of) expands 2000km every year? We played volleyball, watched dr. njiti do the moonwalk, and enjoyed the fresh air and good company of the agro group. It was like a honeymoon weekend before we all were sent off to various parts of the country for the next two years.

The ride home from rib- was like a dusty roller coaster with four girls wedged in the back seat and dr. njiti and his wonderfully hilarious driver, Antoine, in the front. We took a different route back to bangante that let us see the road to bamenda (the capital of the north west province), some more of the oh so beautiful and breathtaking landscape, and have a few more good laughs along the way. There were more savannah grasses, grass huts (so stereotypically African but so real), little kids playing in the road that would drop everything and run from the oncoming cars, we saw lots of women, men and children walking, carrying firewood, pots and other goods perfectly balanced on their heads. There were herds of cattle in the road that we had to come to screeching halts for and nearly grazed as we passed their long slow trek from north to south to be sold at market in douala. As our car was the leader and fastest of the group of three, we periodically stopped to wait for the others to catch up. In one town got to watch a hundred or more women dressed in yellow pagne marching for the cwf (a religious group of sorts), sucked on citrus fruits, had a dance party on the side of the road, and learned that when you make a pit stop you can also say that you are going to kill a rabbit. It was a great road trip.

Back in bangante- we had about a week and a half left of stage or also known as sitting around, biding your time until post. Everyone had to prepare a 20-30 minute presentation, in French, on a cross-cultural topic. I chose to talk about traditional cuisine in Cameroon. I learned how to make koki, my favorite Cameroonian dish to date, with my homestay mom and served it in the presentation, which went much better than I had originally expected. To say thanks to all the families who had done so much for us in the past 3 months, There was a homestay family appreciation dinner the last weekend that nura and I somehow ended up in charge of the decorations.

And we were on the road again- to yaounde, to enjoy the big city (or otherwise known as sleeping in the case, the peace corps hostel, and going broke on fancy Korean dinners, milkshakes, and pizza). We had to do paper work and banking and tie up all loose ends before becoming official volunteers.

Then there was swearing in- a formal affair with the us ambassador to Cameroon, representatives from a few other countries, the peace corps director, the mayor, prefet, sous prefet, and all the important people of bangante, photographers, news crews, homestay families, and most importantly 39 stagieres dressed in matching bamileke pagne ensembles (so bien integre) ready to laugh through the oath as we became official volunteers. There was a huge banner in the town center that read “US peace corps, serving in cameroon since 1962” in both English and French and following the ceremony, there was a very nice reception for the nouveau volunteers and attendees of the event. The afternoon was spent packing our bags, cleaning out our rooms/homes from the past 3 months, saying last goodbyes to homestay families. We celebrated in town that night and fully enjoyed our first night of freedom. We made it through stage!!!!

The voyage to post- was very easy for me and the others who are posted in the west. Everyone brought their luggage, metal trunks, bicycles, machetes, shovels, watering cans, hoes, moto helmets, etc. to the training house to load up the vans taking people to their respective provinces. Everything was piled on top, looked as if the mini buses would topple over at any moment or a large metal trunk would fly off the top. we were dropped off in bafoussam and then depoted a car to take all my things to my house. It was so easy, and I am sure easier than those who had to go to the far east or to the adamaoua on a 17 hour train ride. As my private taxi pulled up to my house, my neighbor charlotte came running out with several of her children to great me and help me lug everything inside. I am so so fortunate to have neighbors like this to look after me and be my surrogate family for the next to years.

The days go by- very fast and very slow. I have 103 weeks left in Cameroon, which seems like a lot but I know it will go by incredibly fast. My concept of time is changing once again, having to adjust to a non-structured schedule with a lot of down time. There is too much to do and not enough to do at the same time, where does one begin? I do not have a set schedule for work as in agroforestry you form the schedule around times that are good for farmers to meet. Also, right now is the dry season, the holiday season, and the season for funerals, as a result, there is not much “work” going on. I will be spending the next three months just trying to get acquainted with my community, identifying and forming relationships with the people and groups with whom I will work for the next two years, learning French and hopefully a little of the local language of my town, and setting up my house, making it home.

Visitors- come to my house almost everyday. they usually are high school aged boys that help me do house work and yard work and just like to come in, sit, read and talk. It is often very awkward, us sitting in complete silence, them staring at me while I read or do work around the house. It’s a way for them to pass the time, I guess. My neighbor often comes by in the evening, her kids come over to sit as well, or I go to their house to hang out, watch tv, chat, and often eat. Charlotte tells me to come over whenever I want in the evening or in the day. she tells me, “tu n’es pas isole, je suis la.” You are not alone, I am here. They are a wonderful family and hopefully I will be a part of their family during the next two years.

French- is difficult but starting to come much easier. I have been speaking a lot when I walk around town and at this point I find I have a harder time understanding what people are saying to me than anything else. They speak very fast and not your basic textbook French. Often it is a mixture of French with the local language, which I do not understand at all. When I speak to people, they often look at me like I have three heads because they do not understand my French, or someone will translate my French into French for someone else. It’s kind of ridiculous.

Incomprehension- leads to fun events. When I don’t understand I usually just nod, smile and say oui. This has brought me to some interesting moments. One night, I told charlotte that I needed to go into town to make some phone calls where the reso is better, she said we would go together. While en ville, she asked me what it was I needed to buy, which was nothing, and then some how we ended up at someone’s house. Its turns out she was taking me to find someone to change the locks on my house, which I had asked her for help with. We sat a while, ate a meal, and talked with the family before a group of me, charlotte, the man coming to change the locks, 3 of charlottes kids, and my new moto driver friend all paraded to my house around 8 pm which is kind of late and very very dark. When we arrived to my house, the man began changing the locks while he played backstreet boys on his phone for background music. And everyone else started going crazy collecting the swarm of grasshoppers that were all over my front porch. They are a delicacy here, and now is the time of year to find them. You fry em and eat em. Have yet to taste though.

Friends- are pretty easy to make here, but you have to be careful. I was walking around town the other day, had to pay the utility bills and pick up a few things in the market when one of the marche boutique owners struck up a conversation with me. She knew and was friends with another white girl who had lived in baham for a little while and was excited to meet me. She told me to sit with her she bought me a beer (mind you it is noon), and introduced me to all her friends in the market, including one of my favorite people so far in baham, the only female moto driver i have seen in Cameroon.

last weekend- there was a big party- fete- a grand reopening of one of the bars in town. Myself and another volunteer in the next town over made an appearance. It was quite the night. All kinds of important people were there, there was a huge spread of food, flowing cold beer, and merriment. Many people came over to talk with us, including an interesting character that is a notable in my town. He was straight out of the 70’s wearing a tan bubu, a rasta like hat, aviator sunglasses, and he kept telling us how much he loves Michael Jackson and would, mid sentence, break out in song “we are the world, we are the people…..” it was absolutely hilarious. He told me about how he lived in france for many years but returned when his father died to take over his legacy, he is a farmer now and I may have the chance to do some work with him. He also told me I had to marry him and take him back to the states with me after two years.

that same night- I was invited to go to fovu (the amazing rock formations in my town) the following morning. My friend told me she would call at 10 and we would go together. When I arrived in town around town, marachel was waiting for me along with an entire soccer team dressed in yellow jumpsuits. I was invited to spend the morning with the veteran’s soccer team of bafoussam who were in baham for the day to tour the town, play a match, and bar it up after the game. As we toured fovu, an old grandma led us around chanting and saying prayers to the gods in local tongue. They were prayers saying that the rocks were an act of god and they were praying that we have safe passage through the giant boulders. I wish I could have filmed it, me with an entire team in yellow jumpsuits being lead through this touristic site. They invited me to play soccer with them, however I did not have the appropriate clothing to wear. So I got a seat on the sidelines with the rest of the team that sat out that day. They were all very very nice and funny and I had some of the most ridiculous conversations that afternoon.

This week so far- I have gotten quite a bit accomplished. I had a meeting with a women’s gic (ngo) with my counterpart on Sunday evening to meet them and pick a date to present agroforestry to them. I have almost finished doing my protocol in baham. Which is when you present letters and meet all of the important people in the town. It is essential to do this so that you can work in your town. Usually you do it with your counterpart however my counterpart lives in another town so I am doing it alone which is a little more daunting. So far so good, they are very kind and patient and between my French and their English we have been able to communicate what I am here to do.

I have met with the ministry of agriculture, and they are incredibly helpful. They are going to help me to locate and organize groups to present agroforestry and do demo plots with in January. and I will hopefully meet with the chef of baham and bayangam soon. I made my way over to the catholique mission to introduce myself and meet the sisters yesterday. There are 8 of them from all over, Cameroon, the congo, mexico, etc. they were so kind and invited me to eat lunch with them. I was introduced to two French volunteers working at the mission school. They are the only two other white people in town and will be here for about a year. I talked to the sisters about possible future projects and they all seemed very receptive and excited. Thank God for the sisters. They are going to be a wonderful resource in the next two years.

Other quick tidbits-

I got a kitten. Another volunteer gave me a kitten he didn’t want at his house. He is a little tiny tiger cat. So cute- I have named him teo. So far he has pooped on my couch, on my bed, on me and in various other places but I am pretty sure he is sick (worms) and I am on my way to get him some medicine for his problem. He follows me around the house yelling at me all day, and curls up and sleeps in my lap whenever he gets the chance. Yesterday he escaped and ran away for half the day. Sat in the yard next door crying and wouldn’t come back. I left the window open and finally he jumped back through. It’s really nice to have some company in this big house.

I love that I get called TaTa here. My home stay siblings called me tata Emily, and often little kids accompanied by their parents are told to salute me as tata. Its kind of like aunt. And it’s really cute.

There is this thing that Cameroonians do called beeping. It’s a funny concept for us Americans who are used to limitless cell phone minutes, but I think we are all becoming used to it and have started doing it ourselves. Because cell phone credit is expensive here and most do not have a lot of money, what you do is beep someone if you want to talk to them. You call their phone and hang up after one ring and hope that they will call you back. It’s kind of like a game and often people just beep you for the hell of it.

Refrigerators are not very common here. A cold beer is hard to come by and leftovers have to been eaten right away.

I miss good coffee and pizza more than anything else. Coffee here is instant Nescafe with a ton of condensed sweetened milk in it.

There is no such thing as a line. I was in the electricity office the other day waiting to pay a bill and had about 5 people cut in front of me. New Yorkers would hate it here.

Polygamy is very common in Cameroon. I think that I might be getting asked soon to be the second wife of one of my moto drivers here. He is a really nice guy but I have told him it is not possible it is against the law were I come from. Often times men with have two or three wives and lots of children. But is a practice that is becoming less popular. The traditional chefs will often have many more than 3 and when they become chef; inherit the wives and children of the chef before. They all live in separate houses on the same compound/concession at the chefferie.

I guess that’s all for now. I have to run, have a meeting to be at in a bit.

I can’t believe that Christmas is next week. It does not feel like it here at all. I will be spending the holiday with my neighbor on the eve and Christmas day at my counterpart’s house. Noelle is a big holiday here with lots of eating and drinking and the party goes on for days. Should be fun! I miss you all. And wish I could be there to spend the holiday with you. Now that I have a little more free time, I will try to get some letters and emails off soon.

Merry Christmas!

Ps I heard I have 3 packages waiting for me in yaounde. Hopefully someone will bring them up to my province before Christmas. Thank you so much to whoever sent them, I can’t wait to open them!