I've been sitting here in this sweltering internet cafe for the past 5 minutes trying to figure out how to start this final Cameroonian post.
...I've got nothing.
Tonight I will be on Swiss Air, eating that mini chocolate bar and airplane food I've been fantasizing about for the past 4 months. (yes, I've been fantasizing over airplane food...). And the MOVIES. Looking forward to that to.
With a 6:00 curfew most nights, there has been a LOT of Laura time. I created a game with myself called "Instances" , in which I write out in detail extreemly specific moments I want to occur when I return home. (...most pathetic game ever?).
For example: It is snowing outside,I just took a HOT shower, and I am wearing hoodie sweatshirt. Driving with new music to see Where The Wild Things Are, drinking a fountain Diet Coke from McDonalds with a fat straw and ICE.
It is definitely bittersweet leaving Cameroon. I'm absolutely ready for the creature comforts of home, the Christmas season, seeing family & friends. However, I'm really going to miss the adventure of each day here.
During the first week of the program here, we had something called "The Drop Off", a sort of scavenger hunt in a third world city. Basically, they send us out in taxis and tell them to drop us at a certain place in the city. To say my partner and I were freaking out is an understatement. We were afraid to speak french, afraid to ask for directions, afraid to take a taxi, afraid to be with just the 2 of us, afraid when people called out "la blanche to us, afraid to go to the ATM, afraid to bargain...you get the picture. It hit me yesterday when I went to Centre Ville by myself to do some last minute shopping just how much things have changed over the last few months. All of the forementioned things I was afraid of seem so silly now.
When I arrived in Yaounde for the first time, I definitely felt like I was in a third world city. But now, after returning from the trips throughout the rest of Cameroon, Yaounde feels like Dubai. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but there is still cold beverages and relitively fast internet. Can't imagine what NYC is going to feel like flying into...
Okay, time to go have my last meal of beignets and beans. Thank you so much to everyone who kept in touch throughout my trip here, you have no idea how much it meant to me. Getting the e-mails and posts from family and friends kept me sane and so happy throughout my time here.
Au revoir Cameroon! Tu me vas manquer!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Mount Cameroon
Spent the weekend getting dominated by Mount Cameroon. Two SIT friends came for the weekend to check out Buea and attempt to climb the monster with me. We woke up Saturday morning at 3:45 AM, where our guide and porter came and picked us up. I could talk about how superhuman these guys are for the next 5 blogs, but I’ll keep it to this:
Enter Walters (THE GUIDE): 21 years old with 8 older brothers and sisters. He has gone the farthest in education out of his entire family (he is up to high school now), primarily paying for his own education. He began his job as a porter at 15 and became an official guide at 18. He climbed the mountain in wool socks and gellies.
Sprint in Vitalise (THE PORTER): Successful completer of the “Race of Hope” five times, currently training for his 6th. The Race of Hope is a 23 mile race up Mount Cameroon and back down for any person crazy enough to attempt it. It makes heartbreak look like a fat piece of Boston cream pie. You need superhuman endurance to reach the top, and superhuman agility and balance to make it back down. He started running in hope of attracting a sponsor… he can run a marathon in 3 hours 20 minutes.
Impressive dudes.
Started our ascent through the rainforest, and slowly moved up into the grassy savannah. Saw the rock where they used to sacrifice an albino every year, as locals believe spirits live on the Mountain (they stopped this just 30 years ago…) Stopped to rest at hut 1, where I fell asleep on a grassy patch and our guide made me get up, asking me if I really wanted to get bit by a snake…
After 10 hours of straight uphill hiking, we stopped at hut 2 for the night. As my dad was watching SNL and my mom was passed out with English papers on her lap in the warmth of the maison de Stable Lane, I was waking up to start the starlit hike to the summit circa 3 AM Cameroon time. I was legitimately cold for the first time since last March.
Definitely the clearest sky I have ever seen, with tons of shooting stars and constellations I knew the names of in 7th grade. It was pretty incredible to be hiking up this mountain, above the clouds, as the sun was rising over Buea.
Stopped at hut 3, where our guides were pretty certain we would have to turn around because of the cold. Ellen and I convinced them to let us attempt to make it (she’s a Minnesota native, and I feel like after surviving the march down Broad on raw New Years’ Days, I can handle anything). 45 painful minutes later, we made it… spent about 30 seconds on the summit snapping pictures and trying not to get blown off the edge. After about 5 pictures, our incredibly patient guides finally snapped, told us to get a move on, ushered us back down the Guinness trail. Started the descent, jogging behind Vitalise.
The downhill was just as difficult as the uphill, especially with legs of led. The stupid volcanic rock that covered the path made us both wipe out on several occasions. Walters was walking behind me, machete in hand, still rocking the gellies. As I slipped down the trail, I was praying the gellies wouldn’t fail Walters and send that machete towards me… Speaking of machetes; apparently it is not uncommon for people to die during the Race of Hope while running down the mountain and slipping on the rocks. Vitalese casually mentioned this when telling me about the difficulties of the race…
By the time we reached relatively flat land, we all literally forgot how to walk. Walters and Vitalise had fun making fun of us waddle to the end of the trail (an absolutely extreme case of the jimmy legs).
Enter Walters (THE GUIDE): 21 years old with 8 older brothers and sisters. He has gone the farthest in education out of his entire family (he is up to high school now), primarily paying for his own education. He began his job as a porter at 15 and became an official guide at 18. He climbed the mountain in wool socks and gellies.
Sprint in Vitalise (THE PORTER): Successful completer of the “Race of Hope” five times, currently training for his 6th. The Race of Hope is a 23 mile race up Mount Cameroon and back down for any person crazy enough to attempt it. It makes heartbreak look like a fat piece of Boston cream pie. You need superhuman endurance to reach the top, and superhuman agility and balance to make it back down. He started running in hope of attracting a sponsor… he can run a marathon in 3 hours 20 minutes.
Impressive dudes.
Started our ascent through the rainforest, and slowly moved up into the grassy savannah. Saw the rock where they used to sacrifice an albino every year, as locals believe spirits live on the Mountain (they stopped this just 30 years ago…) Stopped to rest at hut 1, where I fell asleep on a grassy patch and our guide made me get up, asking me if I really wanted to get bit by a snake…
After 10 hours of straight uphill hiking, we stopped at hut 2 for the night. As my dad was watching SNL and my mom was passed out with English papers on her lap in the warmth of the maison de Stable Lane, I was waking up to start the starlit hike to the summit circa 3 AM Cameroon time. I was legitimately cold for the first time since last March.
Definitely the clearest sky I have ever seen, with tons of shooting stars and constellations I knew the names of in 7th grade. It was pretty incredible to be hiking up this mountain, above the clouds, as the sun was rising over Buea.
Stopped at hut 3, where our guides were pretty certain we would have to turn around because of the cold. Ellen and I convinced them to let us attempt to make it (she’s a Minnesota native, and I feel like after surviving the march down Broad on raw New Years’ Days, I can handle anything). 45 painful minutes later, we made it… spent about 30 seconds on the summit snapping pictures and trying not to get blown off the edge. After about 5 pictures, our incredibly patient guides finally snapped, told us to get a move on, ushered us back down the Guinness trail. Started the descent, jogging behind Vitalise.
The downhill was just as difficult as the uphill, especially with legs of led. The stupid volcanic rock that covered the path made us both wipe out on several occasions. Walters was walking behind me, machete in hand, still rocking the gellies. As I slipped down the trail, I was praying the gellies wouldn’t fail Walters and send that machete towards me… Speaking of machetes; apparently it is not uncommon for people to die during the Race of Hope while running down the mountain and slipping on the rocks. Vitalese casually mentioned this when telling me about the difficulties of the race…
By the time we reached relatively flat land, we all literally forgot how to walk. Walters and Vitalise had fun making fun of us waddle to the end of the trail (an absolutely extreme case of the jimmy legs).
Friday, November 27, 2009
Snail Soup for the Cameroonian Soul
MMMMMMM best Thanksgiving dinner ever? Not quite... but snail soup is pretty good here. Spent Thanksgiving day on the black sand beaches of Limbe with these crazy German volunteers, where we spent the afternoon having hand stand contests and they attempted to teach me some New Zeland form of juggling. Bizarre. It's moments like this where I realize I couldn't be any farther from my family
This morning I visited one of the businesses of the recipients of a LINK UP micro credit loan. She sells "Sha", a traditional Bamenda corn drink outside her home in the morning and in the evening. I had no idea until I finished my bottle, but this "Sha" is fermented corn. I ended up getting inappropriately tipsy circa 8:15 AM with the neighbors and cousins.
Tomorrow I am ATTEMPTING to climb Mount Cameroon. Because of this research project, we are trying to do it in 2 days. Should be interesting...
This morning I visited one of the businesses of the recipients of a LINK UP micro credit loan. She sells "Sha", a traditional Bamenda corn drink outside her home in the morning and in the evening. I had no idea until I finished my bottle, but this "Sha" is fermented corn. I ended up getting inappropriately tipsy circa 8:15 AM with the neighbors and cousins.
Tomorrow I am ATTEMPTING to climb Mount Cameroon. Because of this research project, we are trying to do it in 2 days. Should be interesting...
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Pikins, Ashia, Chop
Pidgin lesson of the day:
1. Pikins = Children
2. Ashia= I’m sorry for you. (This is the catch phrase for just about everything... I hear it at least 50 times a day. It's hot= Ashia. I have to go cook= Ashia. When I jogging by people= Ashia. I'm full= Ashia. I have to take a taxi to Molyko= Ashia. EVERYTHNG)
3. Chop= Food
Despite the aggressive University of Buea campaign against pidgin English (signs around campus include “SHUN PIDGIN”, “PIDGIN RUINS YOUR ENGLISH”, “COMMON WEALTH: NO PIDGIN HERE” etc.), I’ve been making every effort to learn this odd language. The past two weeks have been full of impromptu lessons in taxis and restaurants in hopes of helping my research and equally as important, bargaining in markets. Being white+ knowing pidgin= major street cred.
I’ve started the fascinating but exhausting interview process with women recipients of micro credit loans through LINK-UP. I’ve sat in on their meetings, witnessed the “njangi”, watched how they save, and learned how the various groups work in general. Njangi is a common practice with women’s groups- every week each woman donates 1,000 CFA (about $2)- one lucky woman gets the pot each week when it is her turn. Njangi is there own more traditional system of saving, which they combine with the more modern LINK-UP system of savings (where interest is accrued). For more information, see my 40 page research paper due December 7…yikes.
The groups are a small but strong community. It has been evident so far through the interviews just how much the group means to the women. They are constantly telling me how “we be sister white man, you get?” Beside the social aspects, they also financially assist each other. They have a “trouble fund” used to assist a person if they are sick or a close family member dies. Recently, a group member passed away, and the women worked together to repay her loan to LINK-UP.
I’m starting to get a first hand look at the level of poverty these women are facing. Saturday night I sat in on my second meeting, and afterwards the eldest woman led us through a trash pile maze up the hill to her house. She showed me and Vivian (my sassy pidgin interpreter/LINK-UP social worker) where her neighbors were living. Basically, they are sleeping under umbrellas and with a giant plastic tarp as a blanket because half the roof has rusted away. This woman (I have no idea how to spell her name… phonetic spelling tells me Ngamadou?) is about 80 years old and lives alone in her dilapidated and barely furnished home. She uses the LINK-UP loan to help with her business, selling maniok to her neighbors who come to her house to buy. Before we left, she made sure to send Vivian and I with enough maniok for both of our families.
1. Pikins = Children
2. Ashia= I’m sorry for you. (This is the catch phrase for just about everything... I hear it at least 50 times a day. It's hot= Ashia. I have to go cook= Ashia. When I jogging by people= Ashia. I'm full= Ashia. I have to take a taxi to Molyko= Ashia. EVERYTHNG)
3. Chop= Food
Despite the aggressive University of Buea campaign against pidgin English (signs around campus include “SHUN PIDGIN”, “PIDGIN RUINS YOUR ENGLISH”, “COMMON WEALTH: NO PIDGIN HERE” etc.), I’ve been making every effort to learn this odd language. The past two weeks have been full of impromptu lessons in taxis and restaurants in hopes of helping my research and equally as important, bargaining in markets. Being white+ knowing pidgin= major street cred.
I’ve started the fascinating but exhausting interview process with women recipients of micro credit loans through LINK-UP. I’ve sat in on their meetings, witnessed the “njangi”, watched how they save, and learned how the various groups work in general. Njangi is a common practice with women’s groups- every week each woman donates 1,000 CFA (about $2)- one lucky woman gets the pot each week when it is her turn. Njangi is there own more traditional system of saving, which they combine with the more modern LINK-UP system of savings (where interest is accrued). For more information, see my 40 page research paper due December 7…yikes.
The groups are a small but strong community. It has been evident so far through the interviews just how much the group means to the women. They are constantly telling me how “we be sister white man, you get?” Beside the social aspects, they also financially assist each other. They have a “trouble fund” used to assist a person if they are sick or a close family member dies. Recently, a group member passed away, and the women worked together to repay her loan to LINK-UP.
I’m starting to get a first hand look at the level of poverty these women are facing. Saturday night I sat in on my second meeting, and afterwards the eldest woman led us through a trash pile maze up the hill to her house. She showed me and Vivian (my sassy pidgin interpreter/LINK-UP social worker) where her neighbors were living. Basically, they are sleeping under umbrellas and with a giant plastic tarp as a blanket because half the roof has rusted away. This woman (I have no idea how to spell her name… phonetic spelling tells me Ngamadou?) is about 80 years old and lives alone in her dilapidated and barely furnished home. She uses the LINK-UP loan to help with her business, selling maniok to her neighbors who come to her house to buy. Before we left, she made sure to send Vivian and I with enough maniok for both of our families.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Wazaaaaaaaa
Nope, not a super bowl commercial reference. Went to one of Cameroon’s few National Parks this week called Waza, located in the Extreme North. Cameroon’s tourism potential is absolutely incredible- one part of me wants this country to get its act together and start promoting itself to help out for a major economic boost. On the other hand, there is something so beautiful about how untouched much of Cameroon is.
We arrived in Waza after an 8 hour bus ride through Garoua and Maroua, where we went to some incredible marches. Florence is overrated; the leather products in Garoua were unbelievable. We bargained with vendors for hours, were given some impromptu Fulfulde lessons, and all pretty much bought an entire sheep or cow worth of leather products (and I think I bought an entire Boa worth of snakeskin products as well…)
Tons of monkeys in the trees as we pulled into our camp site for the night. Slept under the stars right outside the park, and woke up at the crack of dawn to head out on our safari.
Around 6:30, two ancient, white Toyota pick-up trucks pulled into our campsite. We piled into the truck beds and set off along a barely marked dusty road. I won’t be able to do justice in describing the scenery (Kat, I wish you were in my pocket for this voyage so you could help me attempt to depict the absolute beauty).
Waza was just completely wild in every sense of the word. We began our voyage as the sun was rising, beating down on our incredibly touristy straw hats. It became apparent that elephants enjoyed traveling on the dusty truck route, as their giant footprints provided us with some extremely bumpy terrain. The two inch dagger thorns flanking either side of the truck didn’t help either.
Saw tons of giraffes- incredibly majestic and graceful animals. Lots of antelope, ostrich, boar, monkeys, and huge birds. Found some lion tracks, but even Flobert (SIT’s head driver/renaissance safari man) couldn’t track them down.
Rode back 28 hours to Yaounde with 2 goats tied to the top of our bus. (Our bus driver really wanted to bring them back to Yaounde because they were so cheap…) The unexpected bathroom breaks of the goats kept us all on our toes and provided endless entertainment for those on the front of the bus (not getting sprinkled on).
We dropped of the 2 BIR officers (Cameroonian military elite) on our way back. These dudes were HUGE and ridiculously intimidating (as were their giant automatic guns and endless amo refills). Fortunately, the Coupers de route decided not to strike (we would’ve been a goldmine for them).
ISP (our 4 week independent research period) has officially begun. I’m heading to Buea to research the microfinance branch of LINK UP, an NGO focused on child development. I’m really looking forward to a month of total independence (no other students are traveling to Buea to conduct their research). I’ll be living with a Peace Corps Volunteer and German volunteer in Muea.
We arrived in Waza after an 8 hour bus ride through Garoua and Maroua, where we went to some incredible marches. Florence is overrated; the leather products in Garoua were unbelievable. We bargained with vendors for hours, were given some impromptu Fulfulde lessons, and all pretty much bought an entire sheep or cow worth of leather products (and I think I bought an entire Boa worth of snakeskin products as well…)
Tons of monkeys in the trees as we pulled into our camp site for the night. Slept under the stars right outside the park, and woke up at the crack of dawn to head out on our safari.
Around 6:30, two ancient, white Toyota pick-up trucks pulled into our campsite. We piled into the truck beds and set off along a barely marked dusty road. I won’t be able to do justice in describing the scenery (Kat, I wish you were in my pocket for this voyage so you could help me attempt to depict the absolute beauty).
Waza was just completely wild in every sense of the word. We began our voyage as the sun was rising, beating down on our incredibly touristy straw hats. It became apparent that elephants enjoyed traveling on the dusty truck route, as their giant footprints provided us with some extremely bumpy terrain. The two inch dagger thorns flanking either side of the truck didn’t help either.
Saw tons of giraffes- incredibly majestic and graceful animals. Lots of antelope, ostrich, boar, monkeys, and huge birds. Found some lion tracks, but even Flobert (SIT’s head driver/renaissance safari man) couldn’t track them down.
Rode back 28 hours to Yaounde with 2 goats tied to the top of our bus. (Our bus driver really wanted to bring them back to Yaounde because they were so cheap…) The unexpected bathroom breaks of the goats kept us all on our toes and provided endless entertainment for those on the front of the bus (not getting sprinkled on).
We dropped of the 2 BIR officers (Cameroonian military elite) on our way back. These dudes were HUGE and ridiculously intimidating (as were their giant automatic guns and endless amo refills). Fortunately, the Coupers de route decided not to strike (we would’ve been a goldmine for them).
ISP (our 4 week independent research period) has officially begun. I’m heading to Buea to research the microfinance branch of LINK UP, an NGO focused on child development. I’m really looking forward to a month of total independence (no other students are traveling to Buea to conduct their research). I’ll be living with a Peace Corps Volunteer and German volunteer in Muea.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Nalsala
Nalsala= "la blanche" in Fulfulde.
I am sorry to report that today was the final day of the weave, affectionately known as Carmella. Ngaoundere is HOT. And the 5 pounds of fake purple and brown hair just wasn’t cutting it. Spent about 3 hours this afternoon with about 4 women huddled around my head, jabbering away in Fulfulde. A lot of the women in my compound are forbidden by their husbands to leave their houses. I seriously have no idea what they do all day. Normally when I get back from school and ask them about their days, they reply that they did “rien” or nothing. Seems like it is lots of Brazilian Soap Operas, gossiping, and cooking. Interestingly, lots of Cameroonian families have “domestiques” (a servant)- even the families with no running water.
Tomorrow, my neighbor is taking me to get some traditional Muslim henna. She just got out of a 10 year relationship and is now living at home with her father, his 4 wives, and her 15 brothers and sisters. She married at age 14 and had her first child at age 16. She once had 4 kids, but 3 have died. This woman is about 3 years older than me. I talked to her a little bit about Sophia, her daughter only remaining 5 year old daughter. She told me she prays that she will be able to go to a University and marry after she finishes schooling.
Visited the “Lamidat” or head of the Muslim church in Ngaoundere. He used to be a political, economic, and spiritual leader but lost lots of his power after colonization. He still has servants- they are born into servitude and can become free by converting to Islam. However, since there families have been servants for generations, they have zero relatives, contacts, or money to help them get started. Therefore, the vast majority of them choose to not convert and stay slaves for life.
When we walked into the Lamidat’s “palais”, there were huge decorated columns. Someone in the group innocently asked what the decorations were, and we soon found out that they recounted the stories of a few lucky prostitutes… Apparently these “sinners” were buried alive inside these columns a few centuries ago…
In other news, I can’t believe Wake lost by 1 to Miami. Joey, I can’t believe you kicked a 50 yard field goal to beat us- and I can’t believe we lost to Navy. Congratulations on bragging rights for the year. Tonight the Eagles play the Giants and the Phillies are on too…. Wish I could portkey home for the night.
Just got bit by a mosquito, I really hope I don’t get malaria again.
I am sorry to report that today was the final day of the weave, affectionately known as Carmella. Ngaoundere is HOT. And the 5 pounds of fake purple and brown hair just wasn’t cutting it. Spent about 3 hours this afternoon with about 4 women huddled around my head, jabbering away in Fulfulde. A lot of the women in my compound are forbidden by their husbands to leave their houses. I seriously have no idea what they do all day. Normally when I get back from school and ask them about their days, they reply that they did “rien” or nothing. Seems like it is lots of Brazilian Soap Operas, gossiping, and cooking. Interestingly, lots of Cameroonian families have “domestiques” (a servant)- even the families with no running water.
Tomorrow, my neighbor is taking me to get some traditional Muslim henna. She just got out of a 10 year relationship and is now living at home with her father, his 4 wives, and her 15 brothers and sisters. She married at age 14 and had her first child at age 16. She once had 4 kids, but 3 have died. This woman is about 3 years older than me. I talked to her a little bit about Sophia, her daughter only remaining 5 year old daughter. She told me she prays that she will be able to go to a University and marry after she finishes schooling.
Visited the “Lamidat” or head of the Muslim church in Ngaoundere. He used to be a political, economic, and spiritual leader but lost lots of his power after colonization. He still has servants- they are born into servitude and can become free by converting to Islam. However, since there families have been servants for generations, they have zero relatives, contacts, or money to help them get started. Therefore, the vast majority of them choose to not convert and stay slaves for life.
When we walked into the Lamidat’s “palais”, there were huge decorated columns. Someone in the group innocently asked what the decorations were, and we soon found out that they recounted the stories of a few lucky prostitutes… Apparently these “sinners” were buried alive inside these columns a few centuries ago…
In other news, I can’t believe Wake lost by 1 to Miami. Joey, I can’t believe you kicked a 50 yard field goal to beat us- and I can’t believe we lost to Navy. Congratulations on bragging rights for the year. Tonight the Eagles play the Giants and the Phillies are on too…. Wish I could portkey home for the night.
Just got bit by a mosquito, I really hope I don’t get malaria again.
Friday, October 30, 2009
PHILLIES
-my family has the largest porcelin collection i have ever seen
-despite the 90 degree weather, my whole family rocks matching penguin santa claus hats and cocoon themselves in blankets
-my friend gave a snowglobe with a lighthouse inside as a homestay gift. she did an excellent job explaining what a lighthouse was (projecting enough light to help ships come in from sea), and her family was in total disbelief. they proceeded to go and turn off the lights to see if it actually worked... so classic. the language/cultural differences, no matter how good your french is, somehow always has a way of winning...
-i've mastered the non-chewing technique. lasts nights dinner way a rice and a traditional murky brown/green sauce with silver minnows in it...mmmmmm.
-went for a run this morning and my mom was shocked that i was going out "comme ca?" i guess my kneelength shorts were a little scandelous.
-despite the 90 degree weather, my whole family rocks matching penguin santa claus hats and cocoon themselves in blankets
-my friend gave a snowglobe with a lighthouse inside as a homestay gift. she did an excellent job explaining what a lighthouse was (projecting enough light to help ships come in from sea), and her family was in total disbelief. they proceeded to go and turn off the lights to see if it actually worked... so classic. the language/cultural differences, no matter how good your french is, somehow always has a way of winning...
-i've mastered the non-chewing technique. lasts nights dinner way a rice and a traditional murky brown/green sauce with silver minnows in it...mmmmmm.
-went for a run this morning and my mom was shocked that i was going out "comme ca?" i guess my kneelength shorts were a little scandelous.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Ghetto Locks
I'd like to dedicate this post to the one and only Ghetto Locks, who will be celebrating her 21st birthday here in Ngaoundere with a Coca Light and a bar of chocolate. Party on.
Arrived in Ngaoundere after a 27 hour bus ride from Yaounde (the ultimate "robbie moment" voyage...). Felt like we were on the Oregeon Trail, but Cameroonian addition. Covered Wagons traded for 1980s buses, picking berries traded for Soya and Banannas, however the diseases of cholera, typhoid, dysentary remain the same. Our decisions included ones such as: go left where there is a bridge about 60k away that my no longer exist or go right? a 160 k detour on horrible roads... Made it after 13 hours and spent the night on the border of the Central African Republic.
Day 2 on teh road involved lots of exiting the bus to lighten the load or push when we got stuck in the mud. Luckily we didnt run into any "couper de routes" or road bandits along the way...we would've been the jackpot. They arrested a bunch last night in Ngaoundere...
2 minutes left on the internet!
my life in short:
-ive decided to do my independent research in Buea, a University town at the base of Mt Cameroon, about 15 minutes from the beach. Great location, awesome organization- working with the microfinance branch of NCIG.
-my homestay family is polygamous, but my dads 2nd wife just left him out of jealosy. His dad has 4 wives....we live in a large compound. The family is incredible.
-working on my Fulfulde- crazy language which
Arrived in Ngaoundere after a 27 hour bus ride from Yaounde (the ultimate "robbie moment" voyage...). Felt like we were on the Oregeon Trail, but Cameroonian addition. Covered Wagons traded for 1980s buses, picking berries traded for Soya and Banannas, however the diseases of cholera, typhoid, dysentary remain the same. Our decisions included ones such as: go left where there is a bridge about 60k away that my no longer exist or go right? a 160 k detour on horrible roads... Made it after 13 hours and spent the night on the border of the Central African Republic.
Day 2 on teh road involved lots of exiting the bus to lighten the load or push when we got stuck in the mud. Luckily we didnt run into any "couper de routes" or road bandits along the way...we would've been the jackpot. They arrested a bunch last night in Ngaoundere...
2 minutes left on the internet!
my life in short:
-ive decided to do my independent research in Buea, a University town at the base of Mt Cameroon, about 15 minutes from the beach. Great location, awesome organization- working with the microfinance branch of NCIG.
-my homestay family is polygamous, but my dads 2nd wife just left him out of jealosy. His dad has 4 wives....we live in a large compound. The family is incredible.
-working on my Fulfulde- crazy language which
Friday, October 23, 2009
GO LAURA
At 8 weeks into my Cameroonian experience, it’s time for that “half way high” to kick in (some Welsley cheerers, Gatorade, and Jamiroquai wouldn’t hurt either).
Just had a surreal past few days during our 4 day excursion to Kribi. Before going, I was warned by several people to watch out for the “mamiwatas” or mermaids (Kribi is apparently known to have lots of black magic and sorcery). On our first night, we met some Rastas and had an epic drumming session on the beach. Fleur, one of the 4 Cameroonian students participating on our program, warned me that drumming so close to the water was a bad idea. About an hour later, one of our SIT coordinators came out and told us to stop, because we had no idea what the drummers were chanting and what evil spirits they were conjuring up. These 2 instances just added to the list of intelligent and level headed people who warned us about sorcery-such a crazy and foreign concept to me. Really interesting hearing all of their personal stories about magic… on Fleur’s grandfather’s deathbed, he made her mother swear that she would never bring her children to the village because there was too much black magic (Fleur has never been to this day…).
Hiked 2 miles into the rainforest to visit the Pygmies (the TVS gear absolutely passes the Cameroonian rainforest test Leezo!) Before the visit, we had a lecture by our translator on the Pygmies. The Pipeline Project from Chad to Cameroon implemented by the World Bank a few years ago not only displaced many Pygmies, but also made the prostitution rates skyrockets. Starting around the age of 13, many female Pygmies begin to become prostitute themselves for 50 CFA, or about 15 cents.
[Insert story here that I don’t want my mom to hear until I return safely home…]
On a lighter note, Kelsey and I had our hair “tressed” with “mesch” last night. AKA I am now rocking a weave. It took about 5 hours of tugging and braiding for this fabulous new hair style- I can’t quite figure out what I look like. My best conclusion is that I resemble one of those Bratz Dolls. Dream come true.
I GOT MY BIRTHDAY PACKAGE TODAY! I couldn’t be happier…Tasty Kakes never tasted so tasty. I introduced my sister to microwave popcorn for the first time. My mom came running in when she heard the pops and thought I was breaking the microwave. It was amazing to get to correct her for once (she LOVES correcting me…this morning I learned that I’ve been hanging my clothes on the wrong spot on the line all this time. What was I thinking??) Anyway, they couldn’t believe that it was salty. Apparently all Cameroonian popcorn is sweet and made on the stove.
Originally, we were supposed to leave tomorrow for the North by a train. Unfortunately, it has been derailed one too many times over the past few weeks, so we are now traveling by van. We’ve been informed to wear sneakers and get ready to push the bus, as the roads are apparently horrible. 24 hour bus ride here we come!
Just had a surreal past few days during our 4 day excursion to Kribi. Before going, I was warned by several people to watch out for the “mamiwatas” or mermaids (Kribi is apparently known to have lots of black magic and sorcery). On our first night, we met some Rastas and had an epic drumming session on the beach. Fleur, one of the 4 Cameroonian students participating on our program, warned me that drumming so close to the water was a bad idea. About an hour later, one of our SIT coordinators came out and told us to stop, because we had no idea what the drummers were chanting and what evil spirits they were conjuring up. These 2 instances just added to the list of intelligent and level headed people who warned us about sorcery-such a crazy and foreign concept to me. Really interesting hearing all of their personal stories about magic… on Fleur’s grandfather’s deathbed, he made her mother swear that she would never bring her children to the village because there was too much black magic (Fleur has never been to this day…).
Hiked 2 miles into the rainforest to visit the Pygmies (the TVS gear absolutely passes the Cameroonian rainforest test Leezo!) Before the visit, we had a lecture by our translator on the Pygmies. The Pipeline Project from Chad to Cameroon implemented by the World Bank a few years ago not only displaced many Pygmies, but also made the prostitution rates skyrockets. Starting around the age of 13, many female Pygmies begin to become prostitute themselves for 50 CFA, or about 15 cents.
[Insert story here that I don’t want my mom to hear until I return safely home…]
On a lighter note, Kelsey and I had our hair “tressed” with “mesch” last night. AKA I am now rocking a weave. It took about 5 hours of tugging and braiding for this fabulous new hair style- I can’t quite figure out what I look like. My best conclusion is that I resemble one of those Bratz Dolls. Dream come true.
I GOT MY BIRTHDAY PACKAGE TODAY! I couldn’t be happier…Tasty Kakes never tasted so tasty. I introduced my sister to microwave popcorn for the first time. My mom came running in when she heard the pops and thought I was breaking the microwave. It was amazing to get to correct her for once (she LOVES correcting me…this morning I learned that I’ve been hanging my clothes on the wrong spot on the line all this time. What was I thinking??) Anyway, they couldn’t believe that it was salty. Apparently all Cameroonian popcorn is sweet and made on the stove.
Originally, we were supposed to leave tomorrow for the North by a train. Unfortunately, it has been derailed one too many times over the past few weeks, so we are now traveling by van. We’ve been informed to wear sneakers and get ready to push the bus, as the roads are apparently horrible. 24 hour bus ride here we come!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
What’s my age again?
Braved the downpour (the rainy season is almost over!) and braved Mokolo (one of the largest markets in Central Africa) and went on a fabric mission with Kelsey and her crazy Maman. Bought some fabric and hung out in the stalls while we waited for the rain to slow down a bit.
After the shopping, the 3 of us, as well as the token creepy uncle, hopped in a taxi to go to the tailor. The first 20 minutes was fine, but we ended up being stuck in the damp, shag seated, gasoline leaking taxi for an hour and a half. It was dark by the time we arrived at the bottom of the street (which the taxi could not make up due to excessive pot holes and mud).
So, “What’s my age again?” There is in fact a story behind this Blink-182 throwback (that I’ve played probably one too many times on this trip to keep my WXPN internship on my resume...) We arrived on the opposite side of Yaounde around 7:00 PM. Picture this: Friday night, 7:00, your at a tailor having a modest skirt and dress made with your friend, her mom, and uncle (and you’ve just turned 21…). Kelsey’s mom informed me that I had to call my mom to give her the heads up I would be coming home late. I got incredibly nervous (my mom is “tres severe” according to the homestay coordinator).
Major 4th grade flashback. My conversation, “Hi Mom, it’s Laura. I’m really sorry but I’m going to be home late…. Here’s Kelsey’s mom.” REALLY? I think I’m in for a reality check when I come back home and have to realize I’m an actual adult (and no longer need permission to get home at 9:30 on a Friday night).
As my friends gallivant throughout Europe, (they just returned from a highly successful rendezvous voyage to Oktoberfest…) I can’t even imagine what their semesters have been like (especially when I spend my weekends nights consist of treating myself to a Mombo Chocolate bar, maybe a ration of my prized Wegman’s Peanut Butter, and Miss Congeniality in French). Almost a month and a half into the trip, I’ve started to become really comfortable in Cameroon. Comfortable enough to brave the 1000 CFA ($2) seats at the Cameroon vs. Togo soccer game on Sunday. I thought I had the full Cameroonian soccer experience when we played Gabon, but this section took it to a new level. It’s the 104 section of the Link, but Cameroonian soccer style. Total madness and by far the greatest sporting event of my life.
After the concert, went to “Petit Pays”… a Cameroonian singer who everyone goes crazy for here. Before we went, our Academic Director informed us that he, “sings about love and sex and homosexuality.” A student, joking, asked, “then why hasn’t he been arrested?” Or A.D, replied in total seriousness, “I have no idea.” It’s times like this when I remember where I am.
I’m happy to report this is the first weekend of my voyage I didn’t watch Miss Congeniality in French! Even though hearing “Gracie Lou Freebush” with a French accent is pretty entertaining, it was a much needed break.
After the shopping, the 3 of us, as well as the token creepy uncle, hopped in a taxi to go to the tailor. The first 20 minutes was fine, but we ended up being stuck in the damp, shag seated, gasoline leaking taxi for an hour and a half. It was dark by the time we arrived at the bottom of the street (which the taxi could not make up due to excessive pot holes and mud).
So, “What’s my age again?” There is in fact a story behind this Blink-182 throwback (that I’ve played probably one too many times on this trip to keep my WXPN internship on my resume...) We arrived on the opposite side of Yaounde around 7:00 PM. Picture this: Friday night, 7:00, your at a tailor having a modest skirt and dress made with your friend, her mom, and uncle (and you’ve just turned 21…). Kelsey’s mom informed me that I had to call my mom to give her the heads up I would be coming home late. I got incredibly nervous (my mom is “tres severe” according to the homestay coordinator).
Major 4th grade flashback. My conversation, “Hi Mom, it’s Laura. I’m really sorry but I’m going to be home late…. Here’s Kelsey’s mom.” REALLY? I think I’m in for a reality check when I come back home and have to realize I’m an actual adult (and no longer need permission to get home at 9:30 on a Friday night).
As my friends gallivant throughout Europe, (they just returned from a highly successful rendezvous voyage to Oktoberfest…) I can’t even imagine what their semesters have been like (especially when I spend my weekends nights consist of treating myself to a Mombo Chocolate bar, maybe a ration of my prized Wegman’s Peanut Butter, and Miss Congeniality in French). Almost a month and a half into the trip, I’ve started to become really comfortable in Cameroon. Comfortable enough to brave the 1000 CFA ($2) seats at the Cameroon vs. Togo soccer game on Sunday. I thought I had the full Cameroonian soccer experience when we played Gabon, but this section took it to a new level. It’s the 104 section of the Link, but Cameroonian soccer style. Total madness and by far the greatest sporting event of my life.
After the concert, went to “Petit Pays”… a Cameroonian singer who everyone goes crazy for here. Before we went, our Academic Director informed us that he, “sings about love and sex and homosexuality.” A student, joking, asked, “then why hasn’t he been arrested?” Or A.D, replied in total seriousness, “I have no idea.” It’s times like this when I remember where I am.
I’m happy to report this is the first weekend of my voyage I didn’t watch Miss Congeniality in French! Even though hearing “Gracie Lou Freebush” with a French accent is pretty entertaining, it was a much needed break.
Monday, October 5, 2009
The Trifecta
Vraiment? What a week it has been.
It all began last Wednesday when we ventured out of Dschang on our little bus of doom. We drove about an hour and a half to a chefferie (a chiefdom) for a completely surreal afternoon.
We entered into this fantasy land through a giant, intricately designed gate with bold blues and deep mahogany wood carvings. Directly in front of us was a massive grass hut surrounded by several true to size wood carvings of lions and warriors. Everything was screaming Disney land, and it took being informed that “the chief’s wives (yes, wives, more to come later…) were currently preparing our lunch” to snap me back into reality and remind me that I wasn’t in Florida. Waited for about an hour where we got destroyed by insects, as the chief himself was currently busy with prayers.
Donning his traditional Bamilike robes (and a Versace watch), the chief welcomed each of us to his Chiefdom. Had lunch with him and found out a little more about life as a chief. He isn’t sure how many wives or children he has, but it is estimated over 20 wives. He was one of over 100 children (and there were tons of kids throughout the chiefdom) so I am assuming he has quite a few as well…
He was friendly and outgoing, and told us about his get togethers with the other chiefs in the surrounding areas to play soccer or basketball. Then he would smoothly transition into a story by pointing to a 20 foot snake skin on the wall and explain how it was eating the leg (and killing) his uncle, and the men had to rip the serpent off him? Like I said, totally surreal.
Right after lunch, had a dance party with the chief with some incredible live music.
QUE: Symbolic rain and lightning (and thunder in my stomach).
Sorry if this gets too graphic here, but it is too good of a story to not share. Broke away from the group and tried to speedily find my way to the bathroom through the maze of 4 foot doors and outdoor, walled corridors (this place was unbelievable). Didn’t quite make it and ended up getting sick on the chief’s lawn. Way to go Laura. And to make it even better, one of the men who was serving us during lunch totally saw me, and with a horrified look on his face, gave me an umbrella and ushered me to the bathroom.
Downhill spiral from there. Went to the hospital that night, where we banged on the gate for 10 minutes before a nurse finally came. Found out there was no doctor in … The next 2 days were a pretty fascinating lesson in Cameroonian public health.
Went back in the morning where I was diagnosed with Malaria, Typhoid Fever (I thought that only existed in Oregon Trail?), and some other bacterial stomach thing that I can’t even come close to pronouncing. Happy 21st Birthday to me! Spent the next 2 days in the hospital…paid some extra cash for the private room (kerosene lamp and bucket of rain water for washing/flushing the toilet included…). Throughout most of the hospital, not running water or electricity- my night-time nurse had worked there for over 25 years and said that it was very rare to have the two. There are 2 doctors in the entire hospital who are never around. The place is basically run by 3 people: the nurse, the pharmacist (who also quiet often doubles as a nurse), and the cleaner. I could go on and on about the conditions of the hospital, but I think I’ve already scared mom and dad enough!
My amazing family from Dschang came and visited me on my birthday. My dad, the self proclaimed cordon-bleu, made me the best pound cake in the world (especially after eating only Digestif biscuits for 4 days… I never want to see those things again).
Thank you for all of the birthday and well wishes!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
3:32
Welcome to the next five minutes of my life. I am sitting in a classroom in the University of Dschang. Even though it is down pouring, the skies above are blindingly bright. I can feel the sun warming my skin (the UV index is absurd Grace…) I’ve put in the headphones, put my iTunes on shuffle, and am going attempt to zone out for the next few minutes and pretend I’m not in Central Africa (this is going to be more difficult than I thought… a gigantic cockroach just scrambled into my backpack. Lovely.)
The past few weeks have been ridiculous? Crazy? Life changing? Scary? Fun? Mind blowing? Absurd? I don’t know if there is a proper adjective to describe it. I don’t really think I had any idea of what I was signing up for pre-Cameroon… I guess you could say it has been the ultimate immersion experience. Living with families has been ____( fill in the adjective from the list above here). I can’t imagine not living with a family in a foreign country now… I have learned so much about the ins and outs of day to day life in Cameroon- there is a huge surprise in each day and I love it. From the most basic of things (getting drinking water) to extremely intense things (the reality of death here), I’ve been exposed to it all. It has been incredibly difficult to comprehend all of these things, and my brain is on cultural and information overload. Have I really only been here for 4 weeks? I can’t imagine being anywhere else in the world right now (except for in my bath in good old West Chester once and awhile…).
This Thursday is my 21st birthday. What does that mean? At home, it’s a time to celebrate being “legal”… the start of one’s “adult” life. Here, it’s the time when it is getting a little late for marriage. The respected women in the village have had children by now. If I was the average Cameroonian, 5 years from now would mark the half way point in my life. In 2 weeks I will be heading to the extreme North (near Chad) and most of our host stay mothers will be younger than we are.
I’ve encountered things here so opposite from everything I know, that it has become hard to separate reality in the States to pre-conceived notions of “Africa” to the reality that is “Cameroon.” It is incredibly difficult to articulate my emotions to myself, let alone on this blog (I’m trying my best!). All I can be sure of is that the last month has been more eye opening than I could have imagined coming into this experience. In the past, I’ve heard people talk about how life changing a trip to Africa is, and I’ve always rolled my eyes in a way. I think I’m beginning to understand now (I think…). It is a truly different world, while at the same time, the very same world, which makes things incredibly complex. Every day has called into question the “big” questions of life. And while I feel very cliché blogging things like this, it is the truth. Being in Cameroon has made me stop. And reflect. For once. Really seek to understand the world as it is today.
Back to the 5 minutes of Laura… I’m drinking out of a bottle of “Tangui.” I’ve been conducting a research project on the availability and accessibility of water in Cameroon (both in the capital of Yaounde and more rural Dshang) and the results have been shocking. Just to have fresh drinking water here is incredibly expensive.
The past few weeks have been ridiculous? Crazy? Life changing? Scary? Fun? Mind blowing? Absurd? I don’t know if there is a proper adjective to describe it. I don’t really think I had any idea of what I was signing up for pre-Cameroon… I guess you could say it has been the ultimate immersion experience. Living with families has been ____( fill in the adjective from the list above here). I can’t imagine not living with a family in a foreign country now… I have learned so much about the ins and outs of day to day life in Cameroon- there is a huge surprise in each day and I love it. From the most basic of things (getting drinking water) to extremely intense things (the reality of death here), I’ve been exposed to it all. It has been incredibly difficult to comprehend all of these things, and my brain is on cultural and information overload. Have I really only been here for 4 weeks? I can’t imagine being anywhere else in the world right now (except for in my bath in good old West Chester once and awhile…).
This Thursday is my 21st birthday. What does that mean? At home, it’s a time to celebrate being “legal”… the start of one’s “adult” life. Here, it’s the time when it is getting a little late for marriage. The respected women in the village have had children by now. If I was the average Cameroonian, 5 years from now would mark the half way point in my life. In 2 weeks I will be heading to the extreme North (near Chad) and most of our host stay mothers will be younger than we are.
I’ve encountered things here so opposite from everything I know, that it has become hard to separate reality in the States to pre-conceived notions of “Africa” to the reality that is “Cameroon.” It is incredibly difficult to articulate my emotions to myself, let alone on this blog (I’m trying my best!). All I can be sure of is that the last month has been more eye opening than I could have imagined coming into this experience. In the past, I’ve heard people talk about how life changing a trip to Africa is, and I’ve always rolled my eyes in a way. I think I’m beginning to understand now (I think…). It is a truly different world, while at the same time, the very same world, which makes things incredibly complex. Every day has called into question the “big” questions of life. And while I feel very cliché blogging things like this, it is the truth. Being in Cameroon has made me stop. And reflect. For once. Really seek to understand the world as it is today.
Back to the 5 minutes of Laura… I’m drinking out of a bottle of “Tangui.” I’ve been conducting a research project on the availability and accessibility of water in Cameroon (both in the capital of Yaounde and more rural Dshang) and the results have been shocking. Just to have fresh drinking water here is incredibly expensive.
A Baptism of Fire
First time I heard this expression was from Mr. Tatios (an intense lacrosse coach) after he threw me into a game against those amazing CCLAX girls at a tournament at USTC. I was playing with the older girls (who I was totally in awe of) because they didnt have enough players. How different my life is now...That experience was definitely a lacrosse baptism of fire, but I had a true African religion baptism of fire this weekend...
Went to church in Foreke-Dschang (my family’s village) today. It was conducted primarily in Yemba (the language of the Foreke) with some parts in French, and one song in English. The church was packed- the choir wore matching cabbas and the kids sat in the front on the dirt floor. We arrived a little late, and my father preaches during the service in Yemba, so lucky me got escorted (solo) right up to the front by an altar server. I was placed right in the middle of the choir (who were absolutely amazing). They had 3 boys (all about 10 years old) playing the drums in the front. The woman on my left was the designated “shrieker” during the songs (who also ended up breast feeding in the middle of the service), and the man on my left was banging some sort of gourd instrument. Best 3 hour church service ever.
Couldn’t bring myself to refuse the bread and mayonnaise sandwich after church (I get the feeling mayo is a treat here…). Plastered on the bottle declares that it is "100% real American Mayonaise!" Hmmm...Im puzzled. Can something be 100% real if it is 100% fake?? Im actually starting to seriously enjoy the bread and mayo though... It has become some type of game for the Momo family to get me to eat as much as possible during each meal- they’re only satisfied if I keep up with my older brother Guilium (who also happens to be a body builder…). They remind me at each meal that want to “make you plus gross (fatter)!” I think my 40 minute walk to school is the only way Im not gaining the Dschang 15.
My dad took me on a little tour of the village the other night. We live in a compound with about 4 other families. He showed me the chiefdom, and the “secret forest” which lies behind it. In their traditional belief (Aministe), that people high up in society (chiefs, heads of households, notables, and Mafo’s – the mother of the chief who has special privileges) all have totem’s. A totem could be a snake, a lion, an elephant…something that is their animal counterpart that helps give them strength.
Went to the “centre climatique” today- it was created as a European vacation spot in the 1940s, but then World War II happened... Ended up giving 5 men swimming and diving lessons, and in turn they taught me some of their best Shakira moves (and it’s even on video… get excited).
The computer spazzed out and deleted about half my post from last time, so to clarify, AWFO= America Wins for Once. Basically the antonym for WAWA. Unfortunately not too many AWFO moments lately.
Tomorrow heading about an hour away to a more remote village to meet the chief. Crossing legs, shaking hands, and dirty shoes are strictly forbidden. Also just found out that we are supposed to let our clothes sit for 3 days after washing them or we might get some sort of bug our director explained as "a painful pimple that you can feel move under your skin." GREAT. Wish she hadnt forgotten to tell us that one...fortunately, I havent felt any mini bugs under my skin. Cross your fingers.
Went to church in Foreke-Dschang (my family’s village) today. It was conducted primarily in Yemba (the language of the Foreke) with some parts in French, and one song in English. The church was packed- the choir wore matching cabbas and the kids sat in the front on the dirt floor. We arrived a little late, and my father preaches during the service in Yemba, so lucky me got escorted (solo) right up to the front by an altar server. I was placed right in the middle of the choir (who were absolutely amazing). They had 3 boys (all about 10 years old) playing the drums in the front. The woman on my left was the designated “shrieker” during the songs (who also ended up breast feeding in the middle of the service), and the man on my left was banging some sort of gourd instrument. Best 3 hour church service ever.
Couldn’t bring myself to refuse the bread and mayonnaise sandwich after church (I get the feeling mayo is a treat here…). Plastered on the bottle declares that it is "100% real American Mayonaise!" Hmmm...Im puzzled. Can something be 100% real if it is 100% fake?? Im actually starting to seriously enjoy the bread and mayo though... It has become some type of game for the Momo family to get me to eat as much as possible during each meal- they’re only satisfied if I keep up with my older brother Guilium (who also happens to be a body builder…). They remind me at each meal that want to “make you plus gross (fatter)!” I think my 40 minute walk to school is the only way Im not gaining the Dschang 15.
My dad took me on a little tour of the village the other night. We live in a compound with about 4 other families. He showed me the chiefdom, and the “secret forest” which lies behind it. In their traditional belief (Aministe), that people high up in society (chiefs, heads of households, notables, and Mafo’s – the mother of the chief who has special privileges) all have totem’s. A totem could be a snake, a lion, an elephant…something that is their animal counterpart that helps give them strength.
Went to the “centre climatique” today- it was created as a European vacation spot in the 1940s, but then World War II happened... Ended up giving 5 men swimming and diving lessons, and in turn they taught me some of their best Shakira moves (and it’s even on video… get excited).
The computer spazzed out and deleted about half my post from last time, so to clarify, AWFO= America Wins for Once. Basically the antonym for WAWA. Unfortunately not too many AWFO moments lately.
Tomorrow heading about an hour away to a more remote village to meet the chief. Crossing legs, shaking hands, and dirty shoes are strictly forbidden. Also just found out that we are supposed to let our clothes sit for 3 days after washing them or we might get some sort of bug our director explained as "a painful pimple that you can feel move under your skin." GREAT. Wish she hadnt forgotten to tell us that one...fortunately, I havent felt any mini bugs under my skin. Cross your fingers.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Baptism of Fire
First time I heard this expression was from Mr. Tatios (one of the many intense lacrosse coaches of my past) after he threw me into a game against those amazing CCLAX girls at a tournament at USTC. I was playing with the older girls (who I was totally in awe of) because they didnt have enough players. So funny to think back on those experiences of tournaments and the pressure of organized sports now-my life is so incredibly different now (phew.)Anyway, that experience was definitely a lacrosse baptism of fire, but I had a true African religion baptism of fire this weekend...
Went to church in Foreke-Dschang (my family’s village) today. It was conducted primarily in Yemba (the language of the Foreke) with some parts in French, and one song in English. The church was packed- the choir wore matching cabbas and the kids sat in the front on the dirt floor. We arrived a little late, and my father preaches during the service in Yemba, so lucky me got escorted (solo) right up to the front by an altar server. I was placed right in the middle of the choir (who were absolutely amazing). They had 3 boys (all about 10 years old) playing the drums in the front. The woman on my left was the designated “shrieker” during the songs (who also ended up breast feeding in the middle of the service), and the man on my left was banging some sort of gourd instrument. Best 3 hour church service ever.
Couldn’t bring myself to refuse the bread and mayonnaise sandwich after church (I get the feeling mayo is a treat here…). Plastered on the bottle declares that it is "100% real American Mayonaise!" Hmmm...Im puzzled. Can something be 100% real if it is 100% fake?? Im actually starting to seriously enjoy the bread and mayo though... It has become some type of game for the Momo family to get me to eat as much as possible during each meal- they’re only satisfied if I keep up with my older brother Guilium (who also happens to be a body builder…). They remind me at each meal that want to “make you plus gross (fatter)!” I think my 40 minute walk to school is the only way Im not gaining the Dschang 15.
My dad took me on a little tour of the village the other night. We live in a compound with about 4 other families. He showed me the chiefdom, and the “secret forest” which lies behind it. In their traditional belief (Aministe), that people high up in society (chiefs, heads of households, notables, and Mafo’s – the mother of the chief who has special privileges) all have totem’s. A totem could be a snake, a lion, an elephant…something that is their animal counterpart that helps give them strength.
Went to the “centre climatique” today- it was created as a European vacation spot in the 1940s, but then World War II happened... Ended up giving 5 men swimming and diving lessons, and in turn they taught me some of their best Shakira moves (and it’s even on video… get excited).
The computer spazzed out and deleted about half my post from last time, so to clarify, AWFO= America Wins for Once. Basically the antonym for WAWA. Unfortunately not too many AWFO moments lately.
Tomorrow heading about an hour away to a more remote village to meet the chief. Crossing legs, shaking hands, and dirty shoes are strictly forbidden. Also just found out that we are supposed to let our clothes sit for 3 days after washing them or we might get some sort of bug our director explained as "a painful pimple that you can feel move under your skin." GREAT. Wish she hadnt forgotten to tell us that one...fortunately, I havent felt any mini bugs under my skin. Cross your fingers.
Went to church in Foreke-Dschang (my family’s village) today. It was conducted primarily in Yemba (the language of the Foreke) with some parts in French, and one song in English. The church was packed- the choir wore matching cabbas and the kids sat in the front on the dirt floor. We arrived a little late, and my father preaches during the service in Yemba, so lucky me got escorted (solo) right up to the front by an altar server. I was placed right in the middle of the choir (who were absolutely amazing). They had 3 boys (all about 10 years old) playing the drums in the front. The woman on my left was the designated “shrieker” during the songs (who also ended up breast feeding in the middle of the service), and the man on my left was banging some sort of gourd instrument. Best 3 hour church service ever.
Couldn’t bring myself to refuse the bread and mayonnaise sandwich after church (I get the feeling mayo is a treat here…). Plastered on the bottle declares that it is "100% real American Mayonaise!" Hmmm...Im puzzled. Can something be 100% real if it is 100% fake?? Im actually starting to seriously enjoy the bread and mayo though... It has become some type of game for the Momo family to get me to eat as much as possible during each meal- they’re only satisfied if I keep up with my older brother Guilium (who also happens to be a body builder…). They remind me at each meal that want to “make you plus gross (fatter)!” I think my 40 minute walk to school is the only way Im not gaining the Dschang 15.
My dad took me on a little tour of the village the other night. We live in a compound with about 4 other families. He showed me the chiefdom, and the “secret forest” which lies behind it. In their traditional belief (Aministe), that people high up in society (chiefs, heads of households, notables, and Mafo’s – the mother of the chief who has special privileges) all have totem’s. A totem could be a snake, a lion, an elephant…something that is their animal counterpart that helps give them strength.
Went to the “centre climatique” today- it was created as a European vacation spot in the 1940s, but then World War II happened... Ended up giving 5 men swimming and diving lessons, and in turn they taught me some of their best Shakira moves (and it’s even on video… get excited).
The computer spazzed out and deleted about half my post from last time, so to clarify, AWFO= America Wins for Once. Basically the antonym for WAWA. Unfortunately not too many AWFO moments lately.
Tomorrow heading about an hour away to a more remote village to meet the chief. Crossing legs, shaking hands, and dirty shoes are strictly forbidden. Also just found out that we are supposed to let our clothes sit for 3 days after washing them or we might get some sort of bug our director explained as "a painful pimple that you can feel move under your skin." GREAT. Wish she hadnt forgotten to tell us that one...fortunately, I havent felt any mini bugs under my skin. Cross your fingers.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
I had a hot shower on Saturday.
AWFO
Drove about 7 hours to Dschang on Saturday. Went to my first “boite” and was informed I dance like a Cameroonian (the greatest compliment ever). Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure the guy just wanted me to break up with my faux-fiancé. Zut.
Moved in with our new host families on Sunday- my family is absolutely incredible- unbelievably warm, friendly, and fun. I have a dad, 2 older brothers (21 and 24) and a younger sister (16). There are 3 other kids living, working, and studying in Yaounde now. Everyone seems to love my dad (it is easy to see why)- people are always stopping in to chat or to eat and I love having such a busy house. My father is the head of the boy scouts in Dschang- he showed me his well worn guide book from the late 60s which very well could be sold in Urban Outfitters today. My favorite quote, “Ok fellows, now here’s a bit on how to avoid those dirty jokes…”
I had the crazy experience of being the first white person this little 2 year old girl has ever seen. She took one look at me, froze, freaked out, and ran back to her mom. It about 10 minutes until she found the courage to come touch the back of my leg when I wasn’t looking and run away.
Had my first motorcycle ride on the way to church and hummed the Top Gun song the whole way. Dschang is a total motorcycle town- the motortaxi drivers all line up on the sidewalk in their yellow vests. Went with my brother and his friend (who is 22 years old and the chief of the village). Next Sunday they are taking me to the service in their maternal language of Yemba. Had my first yemba lesson by candlelight last night after the power went out. Everyone got a kick out of my attempts- the sounds are ridiculous;. Found out my dads father (Momo Gregroire) was the one who created the alphabet in the 1940s which allowed the Foreke to communicate with other villages such as the Bafang who speak Nufi.
Dschang is absolutely beautiful- full of lush green foliage and bright red roads of dirt. It is the rainy season now, and when it rains, it pours. The steep dusty roads transform into rusty waterfalls and there is no leaving the house. We could barely hear each other at dinner tonight because the rain was pounding so hard on the tin roof.
Definitely a lot less modern than Yaoundé here- the bathroom/bathing situation is very interesting (we’ll leave it at that…), learned to cook over the fire today, etc. Funny hearing all the stories from the weekend from different students with …one friend is living in an apartment and in the bathroom there is a pig pen with 4 pigs. Another friend gave a puzzle as a homestay gift- apparently the family wouldn’t stop until they figured it out, tons of friends and neighbors came over, and when they finally finished there was a huge celebration. Another student was informed by his father that “there is really no need to talk to my wife” and was introduced to the father’s mistress (who gets along just fine with the wife). Monogomy just doesn’t happen here. Learned about the “2e bureau” today in French which is basically the subtle way to refer to a mistress. It is totally normal here-our French professors talked to us about it like it was no big deal at all.
Gave my host family their gifts last night- they went wild over the Michael Jackson CD (especially Hermann) and couldn’t believe how diverse the US is after looking at pictures. Also attemted to explain for about an hour how my dad is Italian and my mom German and a whole bunch of other things- the concept was incredibly foreign to them and they kept asking if I was American
Learned how to make cous cous(totally different from the stuff at home) outside over the fire- it is ground up corn that looks like flour, but into boiling water until it gets really thick (cooking cous cous is an all day affair). You then make it into balls (the boys were bragging at dinner about the amount they can finish) It is very plain- we ate it with legume and arachide sauce, but my brother informed me it is better with bat meat…
Drove about 7 hours to Dschang on Saturday. Went to my first “boite” and was informed I dance like a Cameroonian (the greatest compliment ever). Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure the guy just wanted me to break up with my faux-fiancé. Zut.
Moved in with our new host families on Sunday- my family is absolutely incredible- unbelievably warm, friendly, and fun. I have a dad, 2 older brothers (21 and 24) and a younger sister (16). There are 3 other kids living, working, and studying in Yaounde now. Everyone seems to love my dad (it is easy to see why)- people are always stopping in to chat or to eat and I love having such a busy house. My father is the head of the boy scouts in Dschang- he showed me his well worn guide book from the late 60s which very well could be sold in Urban Outfitters today. My favorite quote, “Ok fellows, now here’s a bit on how to avoid those dirty jokes…”
I had the crazy experience of being the first white person this little 2 year old girl has ever seen. She took one look at me, froze, freaked out, and ran back to her mom. It about 10 minutes until she found the courage to come touch the back of my leg when I wasn’t looking and run away.
Had my first motorcycle ride on the way to church and hummed the Top Gun song the whole way. Dschang is a total motorcycle town- the motortaxi drivers all line up on the sidewalk in their yellow vests. Went with my brother and his friend (who is 22 years old and the chief of the village). Next Sunday they are taking me to the service in their maternal language of Yemba. Had my first yemba lesson by candlelight last night after the power went out. Everyone got a kick out of my attempts- the sounds are ridiculous;. Found out my dads father (Momo Gregroire) was the one who created the alphabet in the 1940s which allowed the Foreke to communicate with other villages such as the Bafang who speak Nufi.
Dschang is absolutely beautiful- full of lush green foliage and bright red roads of dirt. It is the rainy season now, and when it rains, it pours. The steep dusty roads transform into rusty waterfalls and there is no leaving the house. We could barely hear each other at dinner tonight because the rain was pounding so hard on the tin roof.
Definitely a lot less modern than Yaoundé here- the bathroom/bathing situation is very interesting (we’ll leave it at that…), learned to cook over the fire today, etc. Funny hearing all the stories from the weekend from different students with …one friend is living in an apartment and in the bathroom there is a pig pen with 4 pigs. Another friend gave a puzzle as a homestay gift- apparently the family wouldn’t stop until they figured it out, tons of friends and neighbors came over, and when they finally finished there was a huge celebration. Another student was informed by his father that “there is really no need to talk to my wife” and was introduced to the father’s mistress (who gets along just fine with the wife). Monogomy just doesn’t happen here. Learned about the “2e bureau” today in French which is basically the subtle way to refer to a mistress. It is totally normal here-our French professors talked to us about it like it was no big deal at all.
Gave my host family their gifts last night- they went wild over the Michael Jackson CD (especially Hermann) and couldn’t believe how diverse the US is after looking at pictures. Also attemted to explain for about an hour how my dad is Italian and my mom German and a whole bunch of other things- the concept was incredibly foreign to them and they kept asking if I was American
Learned how to make cous cous(totally different from the stuff at home) outside over the fire- it is ground up corn that looks like flour, but into boiling water until it gets really thick (cooking cous cous is an all day affair). You then make it into balls (the boys were bragging at dinner about the amount they can finish) It is very plain- we ate it with legume and arachide sauce, but my brother informed me it is better with bat meat…
Thursday, September 17, 2009
LE BLANCHE
Woke up with my mom at 5:15- yes, I'm still attempting to get on her good side. Heated the water for the morning "bucket bathing", made breakfast of haricots and spices on baguette, cleaned and chopped up the vegetables for tonights dinner, and cleaned "le salon." For as modern of a family the Tchebe's are, the elements of their traditional culture are still present in their day to day lives. For example, the broom we use is one that mom makes from dried palm leaves (we sweep the carpet with it...no vaccum cleaners). I had about 5 more examples, but my entire post just got deleted (these computers are driving me crazy), so I'm moving on. Vite Vite!
After class today, decided we would brave the heat and the intmidating Mokolo market again (one of the largest in Central Africa). Everywhere you go throughout the market, people are shouting "le blanche! le blanche!", some grabbing arms and attempting to pull us into their shop. The good thing here is that we were culturally informed it is totally inappropriate to touch a woman in public, so we can reply with some sass "ne touche pas!" and not sound rude. It's unbelievably liberating. Also, I've discovered from the blunt conversations with many Cameroonians that there is very little need to be politically correct. People say what they mean, and it is so refreshing.
Had another proposal (not quite as romantic as the dirty taxi...but pretty close) with a man attempting to sell me a Lions jersey. At least this time he was sitting and I was standing...close to getting on his knee? Anyway, it happened in the sidewalk while I was being crashed into by the massive amounts of shoppers in about 90 degree dry heat...magical.
Ended up Went to a boulangerie to buy a cake for tomorrow's celebration of the September birthdays. Heading to Dschang (more rural) Saturday for 2 weeks! Time to learn how to say "I'm not allowed to eat bush meat"
After class today, decided we would brave the heat and the intmidating Mokolo market again (one of the largest in Central Africa). Everywhere you go throughout the market, people are shouting "le blanche! le blanche!", some grabbing arms and attempting to pull us into their shop. The good thing here is that we were culturally informed it is totally inappropriate to touch a woman in public, so we can reply with some sass "ne touche pas!" and not sound rude. It's unbelievably liberating. Also, I've discovered from the blunt conversations with many Cameroonians that there is very little need to be politically correct. People say what they mean, and it is so refreshing.
Had another proposal (not quite as romantic as the dirty taxi...but pretty close) with a man attempting to sell me a Lions jersey. At least this time he was sitting and I was standing...close to getting on his knee? Anyway, it happened in the sidewalk while I was being crashed into by the massive amounts of shoppers in about 90 degree dry heat...magical.
Ended up Went to a boulangerie to buy a cake for tomorrow's celebration of the September birthdays. Heading to Dschang (more rural) Saturday for 2 weeks! Time to learn how to say "I'm not allowed to eat bush meat"
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
My Life In 30 Seconds
Hard to believe I have been here for less than 3 weeks. I’m starting to get used to the city, but nevertheless, I’m still on major sensory overload. Lets just say the cultural whiplash hasn’t stopped, but I’m loving it (for the most part…until, for example, a lizard runs over my foot, which just happened by the way. WAWA).
I’ve started to have moments where I am incredibly comfortable and then something little happens (such as the lizard incident, the ants in my pants…and in my shoes, and shirts, and food, the cockroach that ran across my chair at lunch today….)and I’m instantly snapped back into the reality that is Cameroon. For example, this weekend I had a totally normal conversation with my dad about the weekends events, the fantasy draft, family updates, US Open, yada yada over Skype. I walked out of the Cyber Café and BAM. Cultural Whiplash: here is a snippet of the very non-normal 30 seconds that ensued…
(Shout out to Mom’s 7th grade homeroom reading this blog, I’m going to use the 5 senses my 7th grade English teacher drilled into my head!)
SOUNDS: Across on one side of the street there is a drumming session going on, while on the other side, a spontaneous dance party has broken out around a large speaker system blasting Maino’s “All the Above.” Symbolic of the traditional vs. modernization clash we have been studying lots in school.
SMELLS: There are little food stands set up all down the sidewalks…. A woman is making the most amazing smelling beignets in a huge iron vat over coals.
SIGHT: I watch as a full taxi (4 people squeezed into the back, 1 person in the front) makes room for one more person, a well dressed middle aged man who plops down on the front seat with another larger man. Totally normal here. I’ve accepted that sitting in the front seat probably means I will end up sharing the seat, and most likely I’ll exit the car with the imprint of the clutch in my left leg. Public Transportation isn’t very available, most people take Taxi’s everywhere (typically a flat rate of 200 CFA= about 40 cents. It’s going to be hard to take a NYC cab after this…) I also observe a crippled boy crawling across the very busy street in the same set of dirty clothes he wears everyday. I see him at least 2 times a day, everyday, and it is such a reality check and leaves me with such a feeling of helplessness.
TOUCH (this is kind of a stretch….): It has to be about 90 degrees- it is sunny and bright out, but weirdly pouring rain. I see a rainbow pretty much everyday.
TASTE: I can’t resist, I pass 2 Boulangeries on the way home, and convince myself the price is just too good to pass up. 1 large beignet= 100 CFA= 20 cents. I don’t even think you can buy a stale Munchkin for that.
Learning about “Paludisme” or Malaria today… it is the number one killer in Cameroon (the life expectancy is 53 here). I am living in a wealthy neighborhood and have seen my fair share of Land Rover’s. Our teacher informed us that the price of 60 Land Rovers (about $180,000) could provide enough money for every one of the 18 million Cameroonian people to have a mosquito net. This would drastically reduce the death rate, as only female mosquitoes, and typically at night.
I’ve started to have moments where I am incredibly comfortable and then something little happens (such as the lizard incident, the ants in my pants…and in my shoes, and shirts, and food, the cockroach that ran across my chair at lunch today….)and I’m instantly snapped back into the reality that is Cameroon. For example, this weekend I had a totally normal conversation with my dad about the weekends events, the fantasy draft, family updates, US Open, yada yada over Skype. I walked out of the Cyber Café and BAM. Cultural Whiplash: here is a snippet of the very non-normal 30 seconds that ensued…
(Shout out to Mom’s 7th grade homeroom reading this blog, I’m going to use the 5 senses my 7th grade English teacher drilled into my head!)
SOUNDS: Across on one side of the street there is a drumming session going on, while on the other side, a spontaneous dance party has broken out around a large speaker system blasting Maino’s “All the Above.” Symbolic of the traditional vs. modernization clash we have been studying lots in school.
SMELLS: There are little food stands set up all down the sidewalks…. A woman is making the most amazing smelling beignets in a huge iron vat over coals.
SIGHT: I watch as a full taxi (4 people squeezed into the back, 1 person in the front) makes room for one more person, a well dressed middle aged man who plops down on the front seat with another larger man. Totally normal here. I’ve accepted that sitting in the front seat probably means I will end up sharing the seat, and most likely I’ll exit the car with the imprint of the clutch in my left leg. Public Transportation isn’t very available, most people take Taxi’s everywhere (typically a flat rate of 200 CFA= about 40 cents. It’s going to be hard to take a NYC cab after this…) I also observe a crippled boy crawling across the very busy street in the same set of dirty clothes he wears everyday. I see him at least 2 times a day, everyday, and it is such a reality check and leaves me with such a feeling of helplessness.
TOUCH (this is kind of a stretch….): It has to be about 90 degrees- it is sunny and bright out, but weirdly pouring rain. I see a rainbow pretty much everyday.
TASTE: I can’t resist, I pass 2 Boulangeries on the way home, and convince myself the price is just too good to pass up. 1 large beignet= 100 CFA= 20 cents. I don’t even think you can buy a stale Munchkin for that.
Learning about “Paludisme” or Malaria today… it is the number one killer in Cameroon (the life expectancy is 53 here). I am living in a wealthy neighborhood and have seen my fair share of Land Rover’s. Our teacher informed us that the price of 60 Land Rovers (about $180,000) could provide enough money for every one of the 18 million Cameroonian people to have a mosquito net. This would drastically reduce the death rate, as only female mosquitoes, and typically at night.
Monday, September 14, 2009
ALLEZ LES LIONS!
Some simple math (you got this Leezo): Eagles NFC Championship game x 20 = Approximate atmosphere of the Cameroon vs. Gabon football game. This is the way live sports are supposed to go down. I’ve always known Africans were crazy about their soccer, but looking back, I had no idea. Got there at 12:30 for a 3:30 start to avoid the brawls that occur both before and after the games (regardless of who wins…). The security was really intense and pretty scary- armed, loud, and intimidating guards everywhere.
Paid about 5,000 CFA for “front row” seats (the best $10 I’ve ever spent). Nobody actually sits in the first 15 rows (which has no overhang) to avoid the sudden bursts of rain, as well as the showers of debris thrown from the sections above.
The Cameroonians make up for the lack of a speaker system... and then some. Tons of people bring their own drums, buckets, and other random objects and create some pretty incredible music. These crazy drumming sessions are surrounded by fans singing and dancing (the Eagles Cheerleaders could definitely use a lesson or two from these women).
People are walking around with all types of snacks (carrying them on their heads, per usual. Even though I see this about 1,000 times a day, it still totally impresses me. Even the really little kids can do it…) My personal favorite were the plastic packets of Whiskey and Gin for 50 CFA. A little more simple math… 1 packet= 3 shots = 25 cents. Wondering when these packets are going to make it to the States (Epop, this could solve all of your double sock and flask problems).
Back to the atmosphere, I wish I could describe it better. The drums are the perfect compliment to the game being played. I never realized soccer was such a rhythmic sport until I watched it with a person whistling on one side of me and drumming on the other. The energy of the stadium is completely electrifying throughout the game. After the 2 goals, you couldn’t hear yourself scream if you wanted to.
In other news, had our first African dancing class followed by African drumming. French class the other day was a trip to one of the largest markets in Central Africa (Mokolo)… some of the most fun and interactive schooling I’ve ever had. (My school days are even rivaling 1st grade Polar Express day with the hot chocolate and PJs… never thought the day would come).
Paid about 5,000 CFA for “front row” seats (the best $10 I’ve ever spent). Nobody actually sits in the first 15 rows (which has no overhang) to avoid the sudden bursts of rain, as well as the showers of debris thrown from the sections above.
The Cameroonians make up for the lack of a speaker system... and then some. Tons of people bring their own drums, buckets, and other random objects and create some pretty incredible music. These crazy drumming sessions are surrounded by fans singing and dancing (the Eagles Cheerleaders could definitely use a lesson or two from these women).
People are walking around with all types of snacks (carrying them on their heads, per usual. Even though I see this about 1,000 times a day, it still totally impresses me. Even the really little kids can do it…) My personal favorite were the plastic packets of Whiskey and Gin for 50 CFA. A little more simple math… 1 packet= 3 shots = 25 cents. Wondering when these packets are going to make it to the States (Epop, this could solve all of your double sock and flask problems).
Back to the atmosphere, I wish I could describe it better. The drums are the perfect compliment to the game being played. I never realized soccer was such a rhythmic sport until I watched it with a person whistling on one side of me and drumming on the other. The energy of the stadium is completely electrifying throughout the game. After the 2 goals, you couldn’t hear yourself scream if you wanted to.
In other news, had our first African dancing class followed by African drumming. French class the other day was a trip to one of the largest markets in Central Africa (Mokolo)… some of the most fun and interactive schooling I’ve ever had. (My school days are even rivaling 1st grade Polar Express day with the hot chocolate and PJs… never thought the day would come).
Saturday, September 12, 2009
A Little Sass Goes A Long Way
Ive been uploading this image for the last 15 minutes... the post to explain this title will have to come later...it is 625 and I have a 630 curfew...no joke!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
GUNSHOT
Deep breaths mom. One of the funnier moments of my trip so far… I explained to one of our directors the concept of calling “Shot Gun” when going for the front seat. All of the students were in the parking lot waiting for Bobo to come out of the Cyber Café…when he finally emerged he yelled “GUNSHOT.”
W.A.W.A.= West Africa Wins Again
I’ve had quite a few WAWA moments the past couple of days… but in the interest of time, I’m going to offer you some random bits of information in
“My life in bullet points: Volume I”
-It is a sign of superiority to sit with your legs crossed in Cameroon, this has been a surprisingly difficult thing to stop doing
-had Viper for dinner the other night… really good!
-Went to a Presbyterian church service on Sunday, where the “children” (or those under the age of about 21) sit upstairs, and the adults sit downstairs. Lucky me got to stand up by myself in front of the entire congregation of about 500 people when they asked for first time visitors…
-if you invite someone here to do ANYTHING (go grab some food, go to the internet café, go to a soccer game, the movies, etc.) it is assumed that you will pay for both people
-learned that the best time to go to the market is during Cameroon soccer games…it is completely empty (and they are usually absurdly packed)
-on the subject of soccer, Cameroon beat Gabon on Saturday. I could hear from the kitchen every time Cameroon scored, the whole city erupts in noise.
-again, on soccer… we might be going to the Cameroon vs. Gabon game here on Wednesday, unless the US Embassy issues a warning, which they often do. In the words of my Academic Director, “If we lose, there will be a big fight. If we win, there will be a big fight.” Apparently, regardless of the outcome here, the men just brawl after the games.
-I’ve been proposed to 2 times so far. And let me tell you, the first proposal of my life was just how I imagined it, totally romantic…in a dirty cab with bright orange shag seating in Yaounde.. It is the total opposite of the US, the men LOVE to make the first move and be completely forward. The first guy was about 35, dressed very nicely, and promised to “take me to see movie, buy me nice things.’ Lets just say all the girls on the trip have learned how to say “I’m engaged” or “I’m already married.” I’ve been called out on being ring-less… that will be my first African jewelry purchase.
-Cameroonians are really into clean shoes. We have to wash them before going out
-showers here are FREEZING (Ms Doss you are the only one who will really understand…I’m talking Turkey cold here.). I’ve perfected the sub- 2 minute shower.
A little about my family…
I have a younger sister, Ornella, who is amazing and patient, and will be my saving grace during my time with the Tchebe family. She is 16 and amazing at the Soulja Boy dance. My mom does something with law… she is pretty intense. Spent all day Saturday learning how to cook traditional Cameroonian foods…I’ve eaten some pretty funky stuff but also some really amazing food!
W.A.W.A.= West Africa Wins Again
I’ve had quite a few WAWA moments the past couple of days… but in the interest of time, I’m going to offer you some random bits of information in
“My life in bullet points: Volume I”
-It is a sign of superiority to sit with your legs crossed in Cameroon, this has been a surprisingly difficult thing to stop doing
-had Viper for dinner the other night… really good!
-Went to a Presbyterian church service on Sunday, where the “children” (or those under the age of about 21) sit upstairs, and the adults sit downstairs. Lucky me got to stand up by myself in front of the entire congregation of about 500 people when they asked for first time visitors…
-if you invite someone here to do ANYTHING (go grab some food, go to the internet café, go to a soccer game, the movies, etc.) it is assumed that you will pay for both people
-learned that the best time to go to the market is during Cameroon soccer games…it is completely empty (and they are usually absurdly packed)
-on the subject of soccer, Cameroon beat Gabon on Saturday. I could hear from the kitchen every time Cameroon scored, the whole city erupts in noise.
-again, on soccer… we might be going to the Cameroon vs. Gabon game here on Wednesday, unless the US Embassy issues a warning, which they often do. In the words of my Academic Director, “If we lose, there will be a big fight. If we win, there will be a big fight.” Apparently, regardless of the outcome here, the men just brawl after the games.
-I’ve been proposed to 2 times so far. And let me tell you, the first proposal of my life was just how I imagined it, totally romantic…in a dirty cab with bright orange shag seating in Yaounde.. It is the total opposite of the US, the men LOVE to make the first move and be completely forward. The first guy was about 35, dressed very nicely, and promised to “take me to see movie, buy me nice things.’ Lets just say all the girls on the trip have learned how to say “I’m engaged” or “I’m already married.” I’ve been called out on being ring-less… that will be my first African jewelry purchase.
-Cameroonians are really into clean shoes. We have to wash them before going out
-showers here are FREEZING (Ms Doss you are the only one who will really understand…I’m talking Turkey cold here.). I’ve perfected the sub- 2 minute shower.
A little about my family…
I have a younger sister, Ornella, who is amazing and patient, and will be my saving grace during my time with the Tchebe family. She is 16 and amazing at the Soulja Boy dance. My mom does something with law… she is pretty intense. Spent all day Saturday learning how to cook traditional Cameroonian foods…I’ve eaten some pretty funky stuff but also some really amazing food!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Cinderella and Beyonce
My new names?
Had orientation today (they started to fill in some of the "unknowns" of the trip...I'm starting to understand why they didn't give us every little detail before we came to Cameroon). The staff is incredibly friendly and fun (and absolutely brilliant). We will be doing lots more traveling than most SIT programs to see all of the diversity that Cameroon has (they tell us it is the most diverse country on the continent between the 200 unique ethnic groups, climate zones, landscapes, wildlife, etc.)
Only have 5 minutes left so let me explain the title of this post. There are 4 Cameroonian students from the University of Yaounde that will be spending most of the semester with us. A large group of us walked down the huge hill from the monestary to go into town...I was in the back with my roomate Kelsey and Fleur (one of the Cameroonian students). Basically, Fleur didn't know we were walking so she was in heels... half way down the hill the 3 of us fell far behind because of the heels/singing American hip hop combonation. I traded my Birks for her heels because I thought I would be able to run in them and catch up to the others. Failed plan. After 30 seconds of shuffling in her Cameroonian heels, we decided to slow down and just enjoy the walk down the hill. In the middle of my "Single Ladies" Beyonce impression, the shoe broke. Not only were we about 3 more miles from town, but there were NO taxis or stores in sight. Ended up each wearing one of my sandals ....finally got a cab to her sister's house to get some new shoes and wash our feet. She is now calling me Beyonce Cinderella, because the shoe broke right in front of the President's "castle," if you will. Fleur was such a champ about it... it was fun meeting her sisters and having this little adventure with her. I'll never forget the french words/pronunciations for shoe, broken, story, rediculous again!
Had orientation today (they started to fill in some of the "unknowns" of the trip...I'm starting to understand why they didn't give us every little detail before we came to Cameroon). The staff is incredibly friendly and fun (and absolutely brilliant). We will be doing lots more traveling than most SIT programs to see all of the diversity that Cameroon has (they tell us it is the most diverse country on the continent between the 200 unique ethnic groups, climate zones, landscapes, wildlife, etc.)
Only have 5 minutes left so let me explain the title of this post. There are 4 Cameroonian students from the University of Yaounde that will be spending most of the semester with us. A large group of us walked down the huge hill from the monestary to go into town...I was in the back with my roomate Kelsey and Fleur (one of the Cameroonian students). Basically, Fleur didn't know we were walking so she was in heels... half way down the hill the 3 of us fell far behind because of the heels/singing American hip hop combonation. I traded my Birks for her heels because I thought I would be able to run in them and catch up to the others. Failed plan. After 30 seconds of shuffling in her Cameroonian heels, we decided to slow down and just enjoy the walk down the hill. In the middle of my "Single Ladies" Beyonce impression, the shoe broke. Not only were we about 3 more miles from town, but there were NO taxis or stores in sight. Ended up each wearing one of my sandals ....finally got a cab to her sister's house to get some new shoes and wash our feet. She is now calling me Beyonce Cinderella, because the shoe broke right in front of the President's "castle," if you will. Fleur was such a champ about it... it was fun meeting her sisters and having this little adventure with her. I'll never forget the french words/pronunciations for shoe, broken, story, rediculous again!
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Sahara. Mot.
Arrived in Yaounde around 7 last night... I think I traveled for 2 days? (and please pardon the lack of punctuation, misspelling etc...just took me about 5 minutes to locate the question mark and figure out how to use it!) Flight from Zurich to Douala (largest city in Cameroon) to Yaounde was fantastic. Flew over the Sahara for about 2 hours in broad daylight- looking out the window was 3/4 bright hot sun, 1/4 just a cream colored expanse- really beautiful. Flying into Douala looked like it was straight out of Heart of Darkness, especially with all the mist (it is rainy season here until November)- lots and lots of bright green vegetation with fat blackish brown river systems cutting through. I looked for Kurtz, Kels, but no luck.
Flew into Yaounde where Bobo, one of the program managers, picked us up. Split up into a couple of cars and drove to a monestary where we are staying for the next few days until we move in with the host family. Lots of people out selling things at 10pm- and the Cameroonians are crazy drivers (but also extreemly talented...I have no idea how we didnt get in an accident) Had my first African feast of spicy chicken, rice, fruit (the best pineapple of my life).
Already lots and lots of French practice...pretty overwhelming but everyone has been incredibly patient and kind. Spent the day touring around Yaounde...tried a guava (extreemly tough shells- you use your teeth to get rid of the shell by biting off little bits-the shell tastes like lime...got a little nervous about the teeth situation but Dr Nelson is a champ - so far so good!)
Internet time just about up...time for a nap and lunch ( were all incredibly jetlagged;;;)
Flew into Yaounde where Bobo, one of the program managers, picked us up. Split up into a couple of cars and drove to a monestary where we are staying for the next few days until we move in with the host family. Lots of people out selling things at 10pm- and the Cameroonians are crazy drivers (but also extreemly talented...I have no idea how we didnt get in an accident) Had my first African feast of spicy chicken, rice, fruit (the best pineapple of my life).
Already lots and lots of French practice...pretty overwhelming but everyone has been incredibly patient and kind. Spent the day touring around Yaounde...tried a guava (extreemly tough shells- you use your teeth to get rid of the shell by biting off little bits-the shell tastes like lime...got a little nervous about the teeth situation but Dr Nelson is a champ - so far so good!)
Internet time just about up...time for a nap and lunch ( were all incredibly jetlagged;;;)
Friday, August 28, 2009
Buffalo Chicken Cheesesteaks & the Ponte Vecchio
Ask my mom or dad if you are interested in the origin of this title... I can't even begin to explain. Tomorrow at this time I will be 5,874 .7 miles away. What? Almost done packing...found out to my horror today that my mosquito net lacks a floor. The notes from last year's students comfortingly reminding us that "YOU NEED A FLOOR ON THE MOSQUITO NET. keeps the cockroaches out." Sid is a genius. She will be sewing a cotton sheet "floor" to the netting in the AM. I'm a lucky kid.
Stay far, far away cockroaches.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Party in the U.S.A.
How fitting that Party in the U.S.A. would shuffle onto my iPod as I begin the first entry in my Cameroonian blogging series. I'm wondering how many people actually reading this blog will know the song (shout out mom!...it's a surprise track I added to one of the classroom CDs for the 7th graders...major cool points coming your way). As tempting as Miley makes this party sound, I'm definitely ready to go. My wardrobe has officially aged 20 years, I have 12 new drugs in my body, I've ended the quest for the perfect host-family gifts, and Party in the U.S.A. no longer makes me want to go to a party, in the U.S.A. I'm ready for the party in Yaounde? Um...probably not. Regardless, I'm ready!
Highlight and most interesting part of my day = hands down the trip to Five Below (wish you were there Kelsey and Marge). First of all "Africa" by Toto was playing when I walked in. Seriously?? I'm walking around looking for little gifts and trinkets for kids. Walk by the book section... tons of African picture books (not a normal amount...a very very large amount and variety). I go and look for hairthings/jewelry... and I find an "African Jewelry"section with rasta colors (some of the earrings even had Bob Marley on them...questionable.) It was crazy how difficult it was to find a non-violent coloring book (even though most are for ages 4+, sad). In any event, it was by far the most bizarre and entertaining trip to Five Below yet.
Most interesting thing I learned today: In one of my pre-trip books which I'm racing through... the concept of "cocoa-colonization"... basically for the first time in history, the number of people worldwide who are bother overweight and malnourished (about 1.1 billion) are equal to eachother. Kind of crazy to think about. There is an obesity epidemic going on in several developing nations (this article cited Kosrae, an island in Micronesia, with 85% of people 45-65 were obese)... This obesity is leading to all types of diabetes/heart disease, etc., thus lowering life expectancy. (Another example= Republic of Nauru in the South Pacific... one of the highest rates of obesity and diabetes on the planet due to the "worst of the American 50s cuisine...they love their spam. Life expectancy in Nauru= 55). I'm not sure if it is proper blog etiquette to go off on tangents such as this...I most likely will not in the future but I found this ridiculously interesting.
One last thing, in the 1998 annual report Coca-Cola described Africa as "a land of opportunity." It's a scary though...could what happened in Micronesia spread through the modernization of Africa? All of this just reminded me of the immense trickle down effects of Western decisions...and probably got me a little too excited about the academic portion of my semester.
This makes me very very happy, thank you World Travel guide.
"While referring to Cameroon as ‘Africa in miniature' has become a bit of a cliché, this statement certainly rings true: everything you would expect from the African continent seems to be consolidated in this diverse slice of land. The south boasts tropical rainforests and deserted golden beaches; the northern parts are awash with great expanses of desert, lakes and Savannah; volcanic mountains dominate the southwest and northwest, and game-viewing areas scattered throughout the country offer ample opportunity to observe impressive wildlife, including elephants and lions."
Second to last night in my own bed!
Highlight and most interesting part of my day = hands down the trip to Five Below (wish you were there Kelsey and Marge). First of all "Africa" by Toto was playing when I walked in. Seriously?? I'm walking around looking for little gifts and trinkets for kids. Walk by the book section... tons of African picture books (not a normal amount...a very very large amount and variety). I go and look for hairthings/jewelry... and I find an "African Jewelry"section with rasta colors (some of the earrings even had Bob Marley on them...questionable.) It was crazy how difficult it was to find a non-violent coloring book (even though most are for ages 4+, sad). In any event, it was by far the most bizarre and entertaining trip to Five Below yet.
Most interesting thing I learned today: In one of my pre-trip books which I'm racing through... the concept of "cocoa-colonization"... basically for the first time in history, the number of people worldwide who are bother overweight and malnourished (about 1.1 billion) are equal to eachother. Kind of crazy to think about. There is an obesity epidemic going on in several developing nations (this article cited Kosrae, an island in Micronesia, with 85% of people 45-65 were obese)... This obesity is leading to all types of diabetes/heart disease, etc., thus lowering life expectancy. (Another example= Republic of Nauru in the South Pacific... one of the highest rates of obesity and diabetes on the planet due to the "worst of the American 50s cuisine...they love their spam. Life expectancy in Nauru= 55). I'm not sure if it is proper blog etiquette to go off on tangents such as this...I most likely will not in the future but I found this ridiculously interesting.
One last thing, in the 1998 annual report Coca-Cola described Africa as "a land of opportunity." It's a scary though...could what happened in Micronesia spread through the modernization of Africa? All of this just reminded me of the immense trickle down effects of Western decisions...and probably got me a little too excited about the academic portion of my semester.
This makes me very very happy, thank you World Travel guide.
"While referring to Cameroon as ‘Africa in miniature' has become a bit of a cliché, this statement certainly rings true: everything you would expect from the African continent seems to be consolidated in this diverse slice of land. The south boasts tropical rainforests and deserted golden beaches; the northern parts are awash with great expanses of desert, lakes and Savannah; volcanic mountains dominate the southwest and northwest, and game-viewing areas scattered throughout the country offer ample opportunity to observe impressive wildlife, including elephants and lions."
Second to last night in my own bed!
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