August 7, 2008

My foot has fallen asleep and now you’re sweating on me.

Getting from point A to point B never seemed so unpredictable before I came to Cameroon. Transportation is quite simple in the states, hop on your bike, get into a car, catch a bus, or take the subway. In Cameroon it’s quite the opposite. Each time I decide to travel its tends to turn into an adventure. Even the trip to the provincial capital, Bamenda isn’t a sure thing. Since I live 4 km off the paved road I have a few options. I can wait for a bush taxi, though this can mean a 10 min wait or up to an hour, depending on the day, weather, or what food is being harvested in the fields (really!). I normally opt out for a moto bike that carries me to the paved main road. There is definitely something about being on the back of a motorcycle passing palm trees on an early African morning.

Once the village road meets the main road I hop off and hail another bush taxi. This car is imported from some European country, most likely from Belgium and blaring an assortment of random tunes, Celine Dion always included. The average size car fits 5 passengers, yes? Not in this country, where every car is a clown car. At least 4 in the back and possibly 3 to 4 folks in the front. How is it possible? Just a bit of shifting, rearrangement of shoulders, and there you have it! It’s basically like that game sardines you played at summer camp. Time to get personal with your fellow travelers. The more passengers in the car, the more money the driver makes, so load em in. Add in a few goats and or pigs into the trunk and the car is off to its destination. Though every so often I get into the wrong car, either the car isn’t registered properly, license is out of date, the tank runs out of gas, or better yet the car breaks down completely. When you get kicked out of a bush taxi for any reason you just find another way. I normally luck out and am saved by some of the nuns or priests traveling up to my post in a private car. Sometimes it’s not such a bad thing living near a convent.

Extra Protein?

By my 11^th month in country I learned a very important lesson in the midst of making cookies. As I got to the bottom of my flour I found some black little bugs and decided to try and sift them out. I buy my flour from the “white man” store in Bamenda, which is a little shop that sells imported European foods so there has been no need to sift. Though as I looked into the bowl I found about 2 tablespoons of bugs and worms, all of which I’ve been consuming for about a year – ha! I reminded myself that everything is baked so no need to worry, though I’m the one always sneaking cookies dough. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to my medical check up.

Who wants to place their bet on how many amoebas I’ve racked up here?

June 20, 2008

The latest, road construction, black pants

The rainy season has truly hit in village. Most days it will be sunny in the morning though the afternoon is quite different. It rains so hard on the tin roof that listening to music is nearly impossible. Though its quite wonderful then the water is out, just set out the buckets and their full in minutes. The thunder and lightening is pretty amazing too.

 I’ve recently been planning a summer camp. Most children here don’t have much to do when school is out from June till September. So in July, some volunteers are coming up to help run the camp. We have 21 girls so far. If the rain holds, Frisbee will be played! We want to focus on girls' empowerment since most priority is placed on boys, especially in the village. Art and crafts, health talks, environmental education, and community service will keep us busy each day. This is the first camp to be run in my village so it’ll be interesting though I’m looking forward to it.

Each week I catch a taxi to Bamenda, which on a good day is about 30 minutes away….depending on stops and possible breakdowns. Sometimes the police step up the roadblocks, which means more money for the driver to payout. In order to avoid this mud back roads are taken instead of the paved ones. It was going well until we bumped into a bit of road construction. By road construction in Cameroon, I mean about 20 villagers with hoes on the road. They wouldn’t let us pass. The solution: all passengers in the taxi get out, grab a hoe and get to work. We all grabbed hoes and started filling in the potholes. Though when I started working most of the children went into respiratory shock from laughter. Amazing.

For May 20th, the National Day, much marching is done. Mostly by students march, political parties, along with community groups. The Compassion Campaign group I work with decided to march. They are a group of outreach health workers for the village. The night before the 20th we had a meeting. I was wrapping up the meeting, just reminding folks what to wear in the morning. It went something like this: “So tomorrow we’ll put on our ironed white shirts, black pants, and black shoes”. Utter confusion and blank stares is mostly what I saw from members. “Come on guys, white tops and black tops just like we talked about”. Mr. Sam the President of the group raised his hand and said, “But Kate, I don’t have black pants to wear”. With my own confusion I replied, “Mr. Sam, I saw you wearing them the other day!”. It got quiet, uncomfortably quiet. My good friend Prescaline whispered in my ear, “Can’t we just choose our color of pants?”…..then I realized what I had done.

I’d just told a wonderful group of folks to march in ironed white shirts, wearing black shoes, and black UNDERPANTS. People refer to underwear as pants, and trousers for long dress pants. When it finally occurred to me what I’d done much laughter followed, thankfully. Now I’m just the volunteer in village going around checking the color of people’s underpants.

May 13, 2008

You know you’ve lived in Africa for 8 months when…

v It’s a miracle if a package arrives, unopened and in less than 2 months

v The sight of a red and white Target bag from the states sparks a bit of nostalgia

v People can’t wrap their heads around the idea of a so-called “litter box” for the cat, it's totally ludicrous to your neighbors

v Normal topic of conversations with American friends consists of debating the latest and greatest food poisoning story

v Before putting on clothing, you give it a good shake…just in case of cockroaches, lizards, etc.

v All the DVDs in your house have been watched at least 3 times…along with all special features and commentaries

v Doing laundry for two hours becomes your upper body workout

v Taxi drivers literally fight over who is going to take you to the village

v Powdered milk is the beginning of your daily breakfast routine

v Instead of stepping on a scale, Titus the tailor keeps you in check on how much weight you have gained or lost since your last fitting

v The toothpaste used to brush your teeth comes from France and Heinz Ketchup is sent down from Egypt

v The sight of dead monkeys for sale (a.k.a “bushmeat”) sadly isn’t shocking any longer

v Traveling nuns become your most reliable form of the postal service

v You feel pretty awesome when you eat an unpeeled carrot, or unwashed fruit for that matter and don’t get sick

April 14, 2008

“Sirri, you’ve been missing!”. I tend to get that phrase when I have been out of village for a bit of time, whether it being 2 weeks or 2 days. Though its true, I have been missing and haven’t posted an update in months. It’s slipped my mind; also I have noticed that things whatever it may be from day to day have become a normalcy in my African life. We are about to hit our 7th month mark in a few days, and in that time we have all adapted to so much. Cramming 9 people into a car suited for 5, and being proposed to for marriage daily doesn’t really turn my head or shock me anymore. The things that used to baffle me have become everyday normalcy. In fact, if I could walk down the main street in Bamenda without a proposal I would be disappointed!

People say the first 3 months at post are the most difficult, funny they say that after those crucial months are over. Trying to find your place in a tiny African village has been quite the task. Some days are better than others of course but in the end it all counts for something. Work is finally starting to take shape. With a new matron of the hospital I have been able to take more imitative with the patients. In the next few weeks I am beginning a series of lectures for the staff along with continuing health talks with pregnant/new mothers. Speaking on the importance of nutritious food is nice, but weighing the babies is one of my new favorite hobbies. After baby 36 last week I was hurting! It’s a great chance to speak to the mothers one on one, which I enjoy the most.

The 2 health clubs are going well. I find that allowing students to speak and talk about health topics is most important with them. The African system of education doesn’t allow for much critical thinking and group work, so I feel fortunate to work with the girls in that manner. It’s my hope to see the members trained as peer health educators, which will be the main focus this term. My assistance with the Compassion Campaign, Mambu-Bawum Water Committee, Frisbee/sport clubs, women’s groups, art classes at SAJOCHA, counseling diabetic patients, and extending to more rural health clinics will continue.

As many of you may know, or may not know. Cameroon faced a series of strikes due to the rising fuel/food prices. The strikes/political lasted about 5 days, at the end of February. Most people rely on the public transportation system, which is mostly small taxis. Once the cars stopped, so did the country. It remained peaceful for a bit, then got ugly. Lives of protestors were lost, though the true number may never be reported. The small village I live in remained safe, I was fine. Once it was safe to move volunteers, all of those living in the N.W. province were consolidated to Peace Corps headquarters in the main capital city of Yaounde. This was done as a precaution in case it became worse. Luckily, all returned to normal the following week. Peace Corps and the US Embassy do a fine job of monitoring national security, which is comforting.

The rainy season has begun, which means planting season as well. My postmate Cate P. helped me plant my garden last week. We are both anxiously waiting for sunflowers, pumpkins, carrots, peas, and corn in the coming months. The past few months have been full of ups and downs, folks always explained Peace Corps as a roller coaster…though I feel like this quote suits it just fine:

“Shopping for a wedding dress is like joining the Peace Corps of Couture – it’s the toughest retail you’ll ever love. The process is rigorous (back to back appointments without lunch), pressured (how many Saturdays can you spend with your Mother?), invasive (septuagenarian seamstress manhandling your breasts), and unforgettably rewarding (seeing yourself for the first time in “your dress”). But you’ll do it, even if you’re not a full-time princess because you’re not just buying a dress; you’re living out your dream.”
-Francessa Castagnoli

January 22, 2008

Things are starting to fall into a routine, or anything I can make of a routine here. Most days begin around 6 am, whether I want them to or not. This is all in thanks to the neighborhood roosters. Just the things you get used to here I suppose. Though each day is always vastly different from the next, no real “9 to 5 here”. The past few weeks have been spent attending community group meetings and trying to figure out the strengths and weaknesses of the community, and how to help. Meetings here are quite different from ones in the states. The biggest difference I have found so far is the concept of TIME, or the lack thereof. If someone tells you the meeting starts at 10 AM, it probably won’t start till 11 or 11:15 AM. My latest record of waiting: a meeting that started 2 hours late.

Though sometimes, while I am waiting for meetings it allows me to chat with folks and learn more. What is important now is to sit back, listen, observe and learn. I have been making nutrition presentations at the health clinic about once a week, which has been good. The beginning stages of things here are slow going, though I hope it will pick up soon. In the meantime I am enjoying Africa Cup! It kicked off on Sunday evening and I’m hooked! Every night here at 6pm feels like Super bowl, aside from the Nachos and the halftime show….dang. Literally every house and bar is filled with folks watching the game. Watching it at the convent with the Sisters is a hoot! Those ladies really get into the game, lots of banter and yelling. It’s great! They also have the nicest TV in town, who knew the nuns would have a flat screen?

I have also begun working in Bamenda counseling diabetic patients. The pharmacist Dr. N, whom graduated from OSU has graciously taken me under his wing. This past weekend he invited Cate P. (my post mate) and I to his family’s Thanksgiving. This is much different from the one we are all used to, no turkey and pumpkin pies. A Thanksgiving in Africa is when a family or a large group of people donates money or things (for auction) to the church. It is quite the event. This particular Thanksgiving was in remembrance of his late father-in-law who served as a Reverend. The church service is dedicated to that particular person and the family is blessed and prayed for. It was a beautiful service with African drumming and dancing. Afterwards we went to the family’s compound where the Reverend is buried, literally in the backyard. Many foods and drinks were served while people told thoughtful stories about the Reverend. He passed 4 years ago to the day, though his family is doing their best to remember him. Seeing relatives come together and reminisce about someone was eye opening. I am amazed at times that amidst struggle and difficulty people have the ability to be positive and pass that along to others.

Quote that made my day:
“When you go back home you’ll be an African American”
–Eunice.

January 4, 2008

My mornings always begin with a cup of tea and BBC world news/ “Wake up Africa”, in my attempt to stay connected with the real world. Though this morning I was absolutely shocked by two things. One was being the Iowan caucuses and the other having to do with the Beatles. Who knew Obama would stomp out Hillary so soon? I’m sure she’s in quite the need for retail therapy. More importantly it seems that the Beatles music is up for auction and is soon to be used for television commercials and God knows what else. Immediately I was saddened and disturbed by this. Here’s to hoping someone with enough sense will put a stop to this. My miniature rant has nothing to do with Africa, but I figure if people are going to read this I can discuss random and obsolete topics from my work here. It’s just disappointing to know music so pure is on its was to sell diapers.

Ok, back to Africa.

One of the major projects I have started working on is the Water Committee. Kate R., the volunteer I replaced found that water was a large problem and burden here. She started working on the project assisting the committee and receiving funding from an Dutch NGO, “Holland Helps Worldwide”. The problem here was that women and children had to fetch water that was only available down a steep and dangerous hill. It was especially unsafe in the rainy season when paths become slippery. Basically, the goal was to rehabilitate an old tank system that was put in place years ago and to get water closer to village. Fast forward to this week: a new pump has been installed which pumped water into 2 store tanks, 2 “stand taps” have been built in central/safe/close areas in village, and the water is flowing! The stand taps are areas where folks can fill up their buckets and containers. The 2 store tanks had been empty for 10 years, which says a lot about this accomplishment.

This is a wonderful and early example of projects in Africa; they need a lot of time and patience. Kate R. began working on this project early in her service and its unfortunate she wasn’t able to see it, just yet...though there are talks of a return trip of the 1st Kate! My major role now will be to assist with the management of the project. Since the pump will acquire electric bills each month, our next task is getting those paid for…i.e rallying the village to pay up. This will be done through word of mouth, talks with the fons (traditional head honchos in village), announcements at churches this Sunday, etc. We are in the midst of planning a “christening” ceremony near Easter as well. Seeing this project going through gives me hope that projects CAN be successful here, even though at times it may be slow going. Also, seeing the excitement and happiness from people is pretty amazing.

Notable event of this week:
My Monday and Thursday evenings are spent dining with the Sisters at the convent. This week the Provincial Sister for the Northwest came through for dinner. To welcome her, we presented her with special foods. I was given strict orders to dance and “tantalize” the Sister with the cake. Done and done. While the sisters sang, drummed, and clapped I danced around the dining hall...while holding a big cake. Yes, this is my life.

December 27

On my way to a meeting some folks in Mr. John’s bar stop me. Meetings never really start on time so I figure it’s a good way to meet some new folks. Halfway though my Fanta someone offers me a chicken for Christmas. He tells me to be around on Christmas day so one of his children can bring it over, kill, and clean it for me. Merry Christmas! At first it seemed like a good idea to ignore the holiday and pretend it was July. Though instead I decided to try and embrace it. This being listening to Xmas music non-stop, baking/delivering sugar cookies around, attending the hospital Christmas party, and going to mass on the big day.

Most of it was wonderful and a good experience. The hospital party was a hoot! Let me tell you. We basically had a “Secret Santa” dance party, this being you draw the name of someone and buy them a present. Instead of handing the recipient a gift you dance around the room with it and fake people out by making them think you are giving it to them. Just a side note, many people gave chickens out. So this meant people dancing around with well, live chickens. Sister Emma gave me a traditional purse with roasted peanuts (groundnuts as they are called here) inside. I experienced a Christmas miracle: The water in my house stayed on the whole time while I had a houseful of guests. When it goes out I pay kids to fetch water from down the hill, which still feels weird to do - but the children want to earn the money and it seems socially acceptable here. It was a nice holiday overall but being away from family and friends was much more difficult than I ever imagined.

Things are good though. Each day is so different but these activities are quite common: working on Pidgin, running from mice, cooking elaborate meals (because I have the time), greeting almost everyone I walk past (Afternoon! How? I be fine. How fo yu, ho fu skin?), reading (I’m averaging 2 books a week – yea!), and really just trying to find my place here. Work now has become life, which is fine by me. Some of my most successful needs assessments are sitting, chatting, and figuring out how I can help here. I’m looking forward to the new year in Africa and what it may bring.

Cheers to a happy, healthy, and beautiful New Year!