Mid-Service Meeting, Visiting Host Family, & Blog Challenge

Happy New Year to everyone and best wishes for the start of 2016! I just got back from my Mid-Service meeting in Yaoundé where I was pricked and prodded when getting blood drawn, visiting the dentist, receiving shots, and finally getting medically cleared. Now I have the “ok” to dive into the last 8 months of my Peace Corps service. My stagemates and I also gave presentations on the work we have been doing for the past 15 months. I have to say that I am so proud to be a member of this stellar stage. Everyone is doing awesome work in their villages and even if they had a few bumps in the beginning, they have stayed positive throughout all the trials of Peace Corps. We left MST with new ideas and renewed motivation.

My host family except for the newest baby (Julia in front does not like pictures haha)

During my trip, I made a quick visit (literally spent 6 hours on a bus for a 3 hour visit in one day) to my host family in Ebolowa. I had not seen them since my training in September-November 2014. I was nervous about visiting since it could be very wonderful or maybe slightly awkward. I had kept in touch with my host family through text messages and phone calls but who knows how I would feel walking back into that house where I had spent my first months in Cameroon. I remember being so very homesick when I arrived in Cameroon and since I could not speak hardly any French, I was unable to communicate these emotions to my host family. Even with the tears and sleepless nights, my host family was kind and understanding which resulted in not only me staying in Cameroon, but successfully becoming a Peace Corps volunteer after training. I knew I owed a lot of this success to my host family.

Me and my host mom, Marie Paule

When I arrived in Ebolowa, everything felt different. I now knew French, understood the culture, and how to catch a moto-taxi. I had to laugh when the moto-taxi guy dropped me off at my host family’s house and his jaw dropped as my host mom came running up to me with a huge smile on her face. It was like turning the page in a favorite book, everything was familiar; the house, the dirt under my feet, the couches, and the smell of humidity mixed with dust that rose from the chair as I sat down. Life had changed a little for my host mom.  She was still with the same boyfriend and had since given birth to a baby girl named Flora. I got to hold Flora for a while and couldn’t help but think about how I used to dislike holding babies in the U.S., but now it felt natural. As I gazed around the room, I noticed that the furniture had been moved, but more importantly there was a water filter and a new small gas stovetop. I realized that by taking care of new Peace Corps volunteers during training, my host family had unknowingly learned about ways to help them live a better life. Had I really helped them even when I couldn’t speak their language or understand their culture? Just by being in Cameroon, Americans can make a difference by being themselves. Cameroon has helped me too. Sure I still try to live the “American comfort” as often as possible, but I am stronger mentally and physically. I guess the ability to speak a little French and Fulfulde helps too. And I won’t even begin to list what I have learned about agriculture and business. Visiting my host family showed me that it’s a two way street here in Cameroon between Americans and Cameroonians even if we don’t realize it.

Me and Flora (probably the first time she has done a selfie haha)

On another note, I recently signed up for a “Blog Challenge” where they give us a topic to write about each week. Not sure if I will be able to keep up with it all the time, but here goes for the first topic: “Why”

 

One of my stagemates used an awesome technique called the “5 Whys” to answer the question of why we are in Peace Corps Cameroon. I decided to copy his brilliant idea, so here goes:

1-      Why did I join Peace Corps?

                I felt that I did not deserve my comfortable life in the U.S. and needed to give some of my time to a purpose that was mainly helping others. I also thought that I needed to learn and experience more about different cultures in the world.

2-      Why did I feel like I need to give my time and learn more?

                I have a great life at home with wonderful family/friends and a freedom to strive for my goals and contribute to positive change. As much as I appreciate being an American, I did not understand why Americans were Americans or why other cultures were different. Also there were problems I couldn’t understand in my community and I had done all I can with what I had learned through my education and experiences. I was feeling like a part of my mind was missing and I might find more ideas and knowledge by living in another culture.

3-      Why is there more knowledge in living immersed in other cultures?

                By living in another culture, I can acknowledge the differences and similarities between the past and present of my home and Cameroon.

4-      Why is it important to acknowledge the differences and similarities between cultures?

It helps me understand how different cultures are formed; especially how the attitudes and ideas of the population are learned along with the start of traditions, language, and gender roles. I can then appreciate what makes us Americans and how much we can be thankful for.

5-      Why do I want to understand how cultures are formed?

                Hopefully this understanding will help me make a more positive effect on my community at home and cultures around the world.

I have already achieved most of my goals that I had when I started Peace Corps: To be taught about another culture, to teach about American ideas/dreams/agriculture/business, and to go home with an understanding of what makes us who we are and how to best work with everyone to make this world a better place.

And on a lighter note, I guess it’s nice to appreciate good American food, well-made margaritas, soft beds, working toilets, hot running water, the ability to wear shorts, petting animals without getting stared at, and just generally rolling in the grass without the threat of biting ants or large spiders.

Joy & Success at the End of 2015

 

The past few weeks have been filled with feelings of Christmas and the end of another year. Even though I am far from home and family, recent events here have given me the holiday joy needed to see me through onto 2016.

Carl carving the turkey for Thanksgiving! Yes they have turkeys in Cameroon!

Thanksgiving was a blast but a lot of work. The new agriculture and health volunteers arrived so we gave them a fun packed welcome with visiting Lake Tison for a swim (where some people got stung by bees –oops) and giving the tour of Ngaoundéré. My stagemate, Samantha who works in West Cameroon came to visit. It was fun being the tour guide for a few days. We even visited the Lamido’s Palace in Ngaoundéré. It’s more like a big building, mosque, and a few large traditional huts where the Lamido meets with people to solve problems. One story is that if a man disagrees with the Lamido, he arrives at his hut, the Lamido takes the man’s sword and if the sword will not cut through the man’s neck, then he is right and can leave. If not, well you know what happens. It was interesting to hear about the history of Cameroon and the Adamawa region. There are three main Lamidos in Cameroon. One in the West, one in the North, and then in Ngaoundéré. The one in the North who lives in a village called Rey Bouba is the most powerful, even the most important in Africa. A group of people made up of representatives of each tribe choose each Lamido. The Boom people founded Ngaoundéré but now the Fulbe people are the main tribe in the city.

Pillars in the Lamido's main hut

 

Lamido's Palace- hut on the right

From the moment I arrived in November 2014, the Soy Project has been my focus even when I had no idea what I was doing. After a few bumps in the beginning, we figured out who were the motivated leaders in the group and found participants that were willing to put the time into learning about soy. We started with 13 farmers who attended sessions on how to grow soy, transform it, and sell it as a product. The real test was when we gave them the 10 kg of soy seeds to plant in their fields. 11 participants successfully grew soy on their ¼ hectare fields! My work partner and I visited them to help with problems, and then it was up to them to harvest the soy so they could each give back the 10kg of seeds for next year’s group. We had a final meeting/party to give out certificates to the 11 participants and congratulate them on a job well done! Not everybody showed up, but hey, it's Cameroon, it's still a success! Everyone was happy with the results of the project and looking forward to finding more participants for 2016! My work partners told me that even after I leave next November, they want to keep the project going and maybe teach about growing another crop. My year here in Cameroon finally feels productive.

2015 Soy Project

The soy cooperative is still always filled with tensions between members, but some of them did successfully grow soy this year so we have to be grateful for some hard work. Now onto 2016, new participants in the Soy Project, more work with the cooperative, and maybe some new adventures.

2015 Soy Cooperative

For “fun work”, a volleyball club was started at the Primary School in Beka-Hosséré. Another volunteer that recently finished his Peace Corps service gave me his volleyball and net. The Directrice at the school was ecstatic to start a volleyball club and unlike most teachers here, she worked quickly to sign up students for the club and they put posts in the ground in front of the school to hang the net. We would meet every Wednesday after school and I would bring the net & volleyball. You can ask my friends at home, I’ve worked with teenagers before, but primary school students...let’s just say Cameroon has now gotten me to work with 12 year olds and hold babies when I refused to hold a baby most of life in the U.S. Also my French is intermediate and mostly related to agriculture. I had a lot to learn when it came to explaining volleyball to students who only knew how to play soccer. Yet their enthusiasm to play resulted in some fun times. It took at least 3 or 4 Wednesdays until they were able to get a short volley going. My hometown’s volleyball coach gave my mom a bunch of volleyballs so my mom sent one already and is working on sending the others. Thank you so much! The more volleyballs, the more the students can practice bumping in small groups. It is Christmas break now so no volleyball club for a while but I am hopeful that next semester the students will be ready to step up their game. At least they are no longer kicking the ball.

Volleyball Club

Talk about feeling like Christmas with all these wonderful packages from home! I feel truly loved. My Muslim neighbors have been participating in the Christmas spirit even if they don’t realize it. My friends and family have sent new coloring books (one with Rudolph in it, that was fun to explain), card games (they love Go Fish!), and they are still relishing in making bead necklaces with the beads and yarn sent from home. My Grandmother put together a little sewing kit for my neighbors. The oldest of the children had asked to borrow my kit, but I was reluctant to part with it since my clothes tend to rip a lot on motorcycles and such here. She was so surprised and happy to receive the kit of sewing needles, thread, a little pincushion chicken, and a thimble which I had to explain how to use. I have already seen her and her sister sitting outside their house, mending a dress or one of the boy’s shirts while the others play Go Fish at their feet. We tried puzzles too, but I have found that most of the children here have the knowledge of US children a few years younger than them. Sometimes it is because they start school too late or the teachers just do not teach creativity or critical thinking. Thanks to all the gifts from home, my house can be a place where creativity and imagination can happen. My Grandmother also sent me a hanging quilt of a snowman and Santa. Now it feels like the holidays with my Santa hat on, evergreen candles burning, Christmas music playing, and eating honey-roasted peanuts as my neighbors and I do puzzles.

Neighbors using the sewing kit outside their house

 

Neighbors using the sewing kit (my Grandma's quilt hanging on the wall)

Another moment of feeling like Santa Clause was when my work partner and I visited the farmer who has the 30 children. I wrote about him in a previous blog post (check it out if you want to read more about his family and the Biogas setup). His daughter was in the first soy project and now is a member of the cooperative. He is a brilliant farmer and has a Biogas setup, but he also has two or more wives and too many children to provide for. Last time I was there at least 3 children had malaria and he did not have enough money to send them all to school. After I posted my blog post about them, a friend from home offered to mail a package of supplies for them since I am technically not supposed to raise money as a Peace Corps volunteer. A package filled with 3 mosquito nets, coloring books and crayons arrived a few months later. After a dusty hour ride out to the farmer’s house, we delivered the presents to the family in their small room as the flies and wasps buzzed around us. The brilliant smiles and shining eyes that gleamed all around me made me feel like this was my Christmas morning back at home. I was glad to hear that some of the children had been going to school and some were actually at school when we were giving the presents. Although it was sad to hear that he has lost a few children. Those mosquito nets should help combat the malaria and give the children a better chance at living a long life. Thank you so much to my friend for sending this package and bringing joy to this family! I may have delivered the gifts, but they know that you were the one who sent them!

Farmer and his family enjoying the gifts

Biogas set up outside his house- the manure and water mix go where the boy is sitting

 

Thanksgiving was a very big party with new volunteers and a real turkey. We had fun, but I was thankful when my postmate had the idea to go to the nearby ranch where we didn’t have to cook and could relax by the lake. His mom and a few other volunteers are joining us so it will be a quiet Christmas for me with board games and Christmas movies (and a hot shower, the best part I think). After that it will be New Year’s and then I am off to Yaoundé for my Mid-Service conference and hopefully to see the new Star Wars movie.

It has been a good year and I am looking forward to another successful one with a good ending to it back at home in November. One sad note, I did lose one of my chickens the other day. She was sick with I think egg yolk peritonitis and about to go so I gave her to my neighbors for dinner. Even though I am a farm girl, it is a different reality when my neighbors are asking “can we eat her yet?” when the chicken is keeling over. We lost the other chicken this morning to the same sickness so I am chicken-less now. We lose chickens sometimes in the U.S. but for some reason it feels worse here. Animals are not seen as pets. I went for a walk the other day and saw a calf tied out in the field next to me. I hadn't seen any people for a mile so I took out my camera and took a picture of the calf with the beautiful landscape behind her. I started talking to her like I would if I was in the U.S. Then when I started to walk away, I heard two men come out of the bushes behind me. They were staring at me and asked what I was doing. They probably thought I was trying to scope out how to steal the calf and thinking, gosh, why do Americans talk to animals like they are best friends? yea I know, Cameroon, I'm weird. You should meet my friend and her chickens in New York.

View from the top of my morning run (Mt. Ngaoundéré in the distance)

I have moments when I really love this place: visiting farmers’ fields of healthy soy, giving certificates at the end of a project, hearing students cheer after a successful volley, seeing the smiles of children when they see crayons, the countless times of watching my neighbors color or play games in my house, my morning run with a neighbor’s dog while we can still see our breath in the crisp morning air with fog lying across the hills, and then sitting with Annie on our porch watching the falling sunset wondering what the next day will bring.

PS. If you are looking for a good place to donate this year, check out the "Fundraiser for 15 Children in Cameroon" page on my blog

Autumn in Cameroon with Fetes & the End of Rainy Season

The last “second year” Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) of the Adamawa region has just left. Other than Rachel who will end her service soon after being a PCV for 5 years, there should be nobody else leaving until Carl’s stage in June 2016. Rachel and I are the only agribusiness volunteers in our region until the new health/agribusiness volunteers arrive at the end of November. It is a weird feeling to see the veteran volunteers closing their service and saying goodbye to their villages, knowing that I will be doing that a year from now. Plus the newbies will be here soon and then my stage will be the veterans. Pretty crazy. I cannot say time flies here, but I am sure I will miss it when I leave. As the changes are happening, I am pulling out of my mid-service drag and jumping back into work again. There were a few weeks where I didn’t have as much work since the soy was growing great for most participants and we were just waiting to harvest. But there were some events that stirred up some excitement. I already did a post on the LuminAid distribution, but we also had the Fete de Mouton, an Artisan Exposition, Halloween, and a random carnival in Ngaoundéré.

The Fantasia celebration for Fete de Mouton

 

Fete de Mouton (or Eid-al-Adha the feast of sacrifice) is a Muslim holiday to celebrate a story where a father was going to sacrifice his son but later God replaced the son with a sheep. Each Muslim family in my village kills and eats a sheep. Reminded me of our Thanksgiving except with some mass praying. Even the poorest of households must buy a sheep including my neighbors who cannot even afford to send all their children to school. Before the Fete, it is normal to see herds of sheep at the markets and random spots in the city. When we walked by them we tended to say “Sorry dude” or “Enjoy life while it lasts”. On the day of the Fete, the Muslims in my village held a mass prayer in front of the Primary School. We showed up a little late, but there were still people coming in on motorcycles and in cars. Goes to show that Cameroonians are late for everything, even prayer time. The men and boys prayed up front in one group and a smaller group of women prayed behind them. It was really neat to watch since usually they pray in the mosques and you can’t see the calming sight of a large group of people all kneeling on mats while lowering their heads and standing to pray in unison. After the prayer, we started eating. Just like when you have many Thanksgiving meals to attend and you try to plan them out so you can be at everyone’s house, we tried to do that. Except it is Cameroon and no one really knows when they are going to eat. Carl and I first went to our community host’s house where he proceeded to kill a sheep in front of us. We ate there quickly (pretty easy since for some reason they had us eat by ourselves- it is really the gesture of eating at their house that is important). Then we went to Carl’s landlord’s house who is an amazing silver jeweler by the way. We tried to eat enough to be nice but not too much so we would make it through the day. Next we went into the city to eat at our Lebanese friend’s place. He had invited some German girls who teach in our region, some Frenchmen, and a few more Lebanese. It was an interesting group. There was tons of food and then our friend carved the sheep: picture perfect Thanksgiving. I was about to burst when I got home and then my neighbors came over with a plate of cooked sheep meat. Food coma for sure.

My neighbors dressed in their finest for Fete de Mouton

Last year the Fantasia (celebration at the Lamido’s Mosque) was the day after the Fete, but of course being Cameroon, no one really knew when it was going to be until the day before. Life is so interesting with no schedule. The Fantasia is a big celebration at the Lamido’s Grand Mosque in Ngaoundéré. Horses and their riders are dressed in Cameroon’s finest traditional clothing and they take turns in groups galloping up to the Mosque at full speed and stopping just before the mass of important Chiefs and government officials. Being the only “Nassaras” at the event, they at first seated us with all the important people. No matter how much we explain that we are not rich, colonialism has made the white man permanent kings in this place. Always the first to receive money requests and always given “the backstage pass”. Even with the unwanted royal treatment, we really enjoyed Fantasia and seeing a display of Cameroon tradition. The Fete ended with the Lamido riding in on his beautiful horse all dressed in traditional garb where we couldn’t even see his face and of course with someone holding a large umbrella over him. Made me totally think of Aladdin and how I wish I could have a horse in this country.

The Lamido at Fantasia

 

Riders racing towards the Mosque for Fantasia

The other event was an Artisan Exposition that only occurs every 2 years and organized by the organization I work with for the Soy Project. Artisans compete for the prize of going to the national competition in the capital city of Yaoundé. We attended the exposition of the artisans from the Adamawa Region. It was encouraging to see so many hardworking Cameroonians displaying their amazing work. Even a few of our friends were there including the silversmith from my village, another friend that works with leather from our market, and one of my Soy Project participants who works with metal to make swords. These were the best of the best. The Exposition could easily have been compared to a Craft Fair in the U.S. except for maybe the loud music and speaker that sounded like the typical “auction voice”. There were artisans that painted, made traditional bowls, bow and arrows, clothing, and huts. I was amazed to see an older woman drop spindling! Yes, my spinning/knitting friends back at home, it was real! Sheep do not live very long here (as my neighbor said: why keep them if you are not going to eat them) and their wool is not very good so I thought that my spinning knowledge was of no use here. But then I see this woman drop spindling cotton! So cool! She didn’t speak a word of French and lives in a village far away so Rachel helped me ask her questions and then she sold me her drop spindle. She said it was easy for her to make another one back at home. Her drop spindle is made out of a wooden stick with a rock attached to the bottom. My friend said we could find cotton in the market and I am going to see about getting this drop spindle replicated. Even if no one is interested to learn and this doesn’t turn into a project, I am just so happy to see that it exists here! I also saw a man weaving with a kind-of loom made of sticks where he used his feet to change the heald frames as he weaved the rock (pick) with the yarn attached to it under and over. If you are a weaver, you might get that description. Rachel and I attended the opening ceremony with the governor and other important delegates. Another day of us getting put into the important seats and getting free food. I swear I would love this treatment at a Josh Groban concert! Overall it was a brilliant showing of artisans. I almost bought a bow and arrow. Our friend that works with leather won first prize in the Exposition. Now I just have to see if he will make me a Zena Warrior Princess outfit and I will be all set for the Renaissance Faire back at home.

Woman drop spindling cotton the Exposition

 

Man weaving at the Exposition

No one celebrates Halloween here, but that didn’t stop us PCVs from enjoying it a bit. We didn’t get dressed up, but we carved pumpkins, made pumpkin pie and bread, and watched Rocky Horror Picture Show. I gave my neighbors some pie and cookies while they looked intently at my Jack-O-Lantern. I tried to explain how we celebrate Halloween in the U.S. They were a bit taken back when I said we celebrate sorcery and that the pumpkin was magical. Most Cameroonians believe in sorcery and see it as a reason why bad things happen. One of my fellow PCVs told me a story of how she and the children found a white line drawn across the path in front of them. It looked like toothpaste. The children would not allow her to step over it and said it was sorcery. So they walked around it. The next day it was gone and no one said a word. As much as we laugh about how we could just smear out the line of toothpaste or step over it, let’s not forget some weird American superstitions. And jeez if my neighbors only knew how many Americans carve pumpkins and let them rot in front of their house every year without always eating the actual pumpkin filling. There goes a family’s meal.

Showing my neighbor's children the Jack-O-Lantern

We also attended a small carnival in Ngaoundéré. It was organized by a local group connected to the government. There were white tents set up where people could rent a space to sell their items but unfortunately the price was too high and most of the tents were empty. Other than that there were two tents selling alcohol and two carnival rides: the Swings and a small roller coaster (similar to the Dragon ride at the Washington County Fair). We paid 200 CFA to enter (less than 50 cents) and then 500 CFA ($1) to ride the swings. I was actually impressed that the ride looked a bit better than some of the ones I have seen at U.S. fairs. And we eat cotton candy. It was green and I think there is a reason that there isn’t green cotton candy at my hometown fair. It tasted really weird. But that was my “Fair” experience in Cameroon. It was a fun night although I couldn’t help shedding a couple tears when seeing the brightly lit rides and tops of tents but no Washington County Fair.

The Swings ride at the Carnival- reminded me of children watching the rides from atop parents shoulders at the Washington County Fair- except this is in Cameroon

 

So those are the events of life here in Cameroon. Work is starting up again with visiting Soy Project participant’s fields before harvesting. We just visited one the other day and we were so impressed by her field of soy. She caught some people trying to steal her soy plants. They told her that they thought that this was their field but she knew they were lying. The soy is just so awesome, everyone wants it! After all the participants are done harvesting, we will have a party to give out certificates.



One of the Soy Project participants and field of soy (and corn) ready to be harvested

The rain is hardly here but has not stopped completely yet. My garden is shrinking to just some tomatoes and kale. The chickens are doing well and I found their nest of eggs! I don’t hear that bump in the night sound anymore after Annie caught and eat a rat the same size as her. I am hopeful my mid-service depression is over and with work starting again, I will get to January and the countdown to returning home. Thanks to my parents for putting up with my mood swings. Also thanks to some amazing friends back at home. Thanks to you, all of my neighbor’s children are attending school. Dada just started her first year of school at 6 years old. She really loves it! And I am trying to start a volleyball club at the Primary School. We set up the net and I am hopeful that my backyard volleyball experience will be enough to teach these students a sport where they cannot kick the ball. Sending hugs to everyone back at home as the holidays draw near. And just so you know, I will be totally jealous when everyone start posting about seeing the new Star Wars movie. Gosh I miss the American life! But in less than a year I will be home, probably missing eating grilled fish with my hands and watching Star Wars in French with the children who think Ewoks (little bear characters) are sometimes speaking Fulfulde.

LuminAid Gives Light to Beka-Hosséré

Light has come to Beka-Hosséré! Thanks to LuminAid, over 30 solar lights were given to families in my village who do not have electricity! The idea started when my mom bought me a solar light to bring to Cameroon and another friend sent me a similar one when I arrived at my village. I gave one of the solar lights to my neighbors since they were always asking to use my flashlights or candles. That small gift made their evenings so much brighter. Not only did the light help them cook and do homework, but also they could see each other’s faces better as they sat in a circle on the matted floor eating their meal of cous cous. It became clear to me that more solar lights were needed in Beka-Hosséré.

Beka-Hosséré is located near Ngaoundéré, the capital of the Adamawa region of Cameroon. Since it is so close to a city, electricity is available to those in the village who can afford it. Unfortunately most people cannot afford to have electricity and also send all their children to school. Just like in America, we choose what we spend our money on. Most of the families are Muslim with 1-3 wives and many children. I want families to choose to pay for education before lights in the house. Whether a child goes to school or not can have a direct impact on the happiness of their life and also on the improvement of their community. If a girl does not go to school, they will probably never learn French, most likely be married by 16 years old, and like most Muslim wives, they will hardly ever leave their compound around their house. They will spend their life cooking, cleaning, and having children. But if a child goes to school, they will learn French, maybe English, and maybe, just maybe they will dream and make goals. Cameroon needs citizens who receive an education and then go back to help make their communities a safer and healthier place.

Using the solar light to cook in her dark mud hut

 

My neighbor, Zakiatoo helped me give out the solar lights and explain how to use them in Fulfulde, the local language

Solar lights not only give light, they give ideas. Just like when we look up to the stars and wish for our dreams to come true: those solar lights are stars in the homes of my neighbors. As a father helps his young daughter with her homework in the pale shine of their solar light, she is not only learning, she is making goals and realizing that she can still value her culture along with broaden her horizons.

Haoua's father helping her with her homework

Nothing says thank you more than a usually serious Cameroonian woman jumping up and down saying “Useko!”: thank you in the local language of Fulfulde. Thank you LuminAid for making it possible for my village to see through the darkness; you gave some new stars to wish upon in Beka-Hosséré.

One Year Later

A year later and I am glad that I am still here in Cameroon. Seems like more time has passed and that training was a few years ago. It is amazing how much a person can learn by living in a place for 12 months. Although I felt like two years was a long time when I first got here, the feeling has not changed with only one left. The work never gets easier and I will always stick out like a sore thumb no matter how much I learn about the culture and try to blend in. On a more positive note, my French and Fulfulde are a bit better and I know my way around this place. I have a few Cameroonian friends who see me as a normal person and not the “white man”, “nasara” or “la blanche” that can take them to America. But those are few and far between. I am finding out that even though westerners have been coming to work in Cameroon for a long time, the view of westerners from colonization is still rooted in the culture. I fight that picture of me as a westerner every day from dealing with the pressures of living in a culture where women are inferior to getting treated as a “grand” because I am a westerner and having to visit the leaders or “grands” in the community just so that they can say they met me and shook my hand. Every time I step into one of those offices and see the picture of a young Paul Biya, President of Cameroon, I think how scary it must be to know that it is an unspoken law to have that picture there and the real ,very old Paul Biya would have something to say if anyone spoke against the “elected dictator” of Cameroon.  I guess what I am saying is that a year has brought me so much knowledge of Cameroon and its culture, but it has also taught me that some things do not change and that I do not have the freedom here that I am used to in the U.S. Life is certainly easier than when I first got here but every day I am reminded that I am a foreigner and people do not understand that I am just a simple farm girl that wants to help…for free.

My neighbors children making bead jewelry with the beads my friend, Alexia, gave to me. (with Annie hanging out as usual)

 

That helping for free has been working , by the way. Work is going great even with a few bumps here and there. After coming back from Tanzania, my work partner and I jumped right into visiting fields. Each participant in the soy project was supposed to plant their seeds at the end of June. Mostly everyone did and their soy is growing great! Some of the fields we visited were what we call “out in the bush” which means off the beaten path and very difficult to get to. There was one time where we had to tramp through a pond that had formed with water up to our thighs. It’s rainy season so every day brings downpours. My work partner is a very good motorcycle driver but there were a few times where I screeched and almost fell off. I got some good ab workouts from those trips because I was frozen and hardly breathing as my work partner glided along a muddy path with both legs stuck out to support us if we tumbled. The stress of getting out to the fields was all worth it when we arrived. The participants were so happy with how their soy was growing and didn’t mind at all as my work partner filled out the evaluation forms. They even sent us back with some food from their fields. I felt more at home in the stretch of green than I did anywhere else in Cameroon. Chickens were everywhere along with herds of cows walking nonchalantly as we drove next to them on the motorcycle. I learned more about the other kinds of food grown here like peanuts, gumbo, and the all too common sweet potato. Some of the participants had problems with birds eating the soy plants although I found myself enjoying the bright colored birds flying around our heads. I think they are called Red-throated bee-eaters. One participant planted his soy and left some of the weeds after he had sprayed them with herbicide so that the soy was protected. When you walked in his field, you would think nothing good was growing there, but then you see a little soy plant sticking out among the browned leaves. Funny how life can be like that too.

Crossing the pond to get to a participant's field

Just recently we visited the field of a Soy Cooperative member. She had been having trouble with bugs eating her soy but didn’t know what kind. It took over an hour to get out to her family’s farm which was so far out that the motorcycle had to just follow a narrow path with prickers on both sides. A couple times I had to get off so my work partner could push his bike through the mud. Unfortunately the cooperative member wasn’t there (which is a common occurrence with the cooperative-they are not very reliable) but her father and mother welcomed us into their house. Her father has two wives and 23 children so there were a couple houses and a few mud huts with straw roofs. His fields were vast with corn, okra, potato, soy, and all kinds of other vegetables. He told us he had planted the corn where the soy had been last year and showed us how much bigger that corn is compared to his corn that he planted in other plots. The soy brings so much nutrition to the soil. It was nice to see that finally a farmer had tried it and proved it worked. This farmer also showed us his Biogas set up where he adds water and cow manure to a deep fermentation pit where it produces gas that goes through a pipe into his house. He turns on the nozzle, lights a match, and whalla, there is a flame to heat food on his little camp stove. I didn't have my camera to take pictures but I plan on visiting him again to give his children crayons to color. He adds 4 buckets of manure every day to the pit so that he can use the gas for up to 8 hours a day on the stove. It had been funded and built by Smart Development Works (international organization) and Wageningen UR, which is based in the Netherlands. He asked me about finding a group that would bring solar power to his farm since he lives too far away for even a chance at getting electricity. I was so impressed by his work ethic and strive to make his life better. But then I saw his son had malaria and they asked us to read the instructions on the box of medicine since he couldn’t read French. I asked them why they didn’t sleep under mosquito nets to prevent malaria and he said he didn’t have enough money. Also he doesn’t have enough money to send all his children to school. With one success there is always something missing here. I see such potential for living a better life even in a mud hut out in the bush, but then I see the wife lower her head whenever she gives her husband or my work partner something and I am reminded of the masculine led culture. My work partner told them about how his wife going to college in Ngaoundéré and they just laugh while asking how many children he has. He proudly says two boys and no more until he can afford to send them all to school. My work partner always tells me that even if I didn’t pay for his fuel or give him extra money for his time, he would still help me teach about soy and help the farmers. So it seems that for every volunteer group in the U.S. that helps their community, there is one Cameroonian who does the same.

Two soy project participants and their fields of soy

Along with the soy growing well, my garden is giving me green beans every day, a cucumber here and there with tomatoes and corn on the way. My friend, Ahmadou went to visit his family in the bush during summer vacation and brought back a chicken each for Carl, Jasmine, and myself. Ahmadou gave the rooster to Carl but Carl was nice enough to give him to me so I ended up with two chickens. A few weeks later I found the rooster on a nest of eggs. I was wondering why such a big rooster would have hardly no comb. Right now the chickens are playing games with me and hiding their eggs. It’s a war I am used to playing in the U.S. Sometimes chickens are just way too smart. Once I find the next nest, I will take only one egg at a time and hope they don’t notice.

The children helping me weed my garden

Annie is doing great and saved my life, well kind of, the other night when there was a scorpion in the house. I ended up squishing it but I’m pretty sure she is a ninja kitty on the inside because she wasn’t scared of it at all. The rainy season has brought vegetables but also huge storms. Annie and I woke up the other night to drops of rain falling on our heads while we slept in bed. Now I really know what Annie is afraid up. We sleep on the couch in the living room when it storms like that. The tin roof makes it so loud I can barely hear my dreams. My living room is the only room with a wooden ceiling that blocks the noise of the rain crashing into metal. But the couch sure is not a softy.

Annie and the two chickens

 

The volunteer that lives in Ngaoundéré and is finishing her 5^th year in Cameroon, Rachel, just finished her food transformation project. It was a week-long of classes teaching Cameroonians how to make fruit juice, yogurt, soy milk and tofu. She has been a great friend and helped me a lot since I first got here so I was glad to help her with this project. I remember one day I walked in and everyone was shaking bottles of milk to make butter. The image brought me back to my 4-H club and our visit to Shelburne Farm where we sat in a circle and learned how to make butter. One person would shake the container of milk and we all would sing “Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake all you can, shake like a milkshake, and passed it to a friend”. We would sing and pass it around the circle until it was butter. I tried explaining this memory to the people in the class and even sang the song, not quite sure if they truly understood why I was telling them. It is moments like that that bring me back home and remind me of why I want to spread knowledge and create memories like I have from my childhood.

Shaking bottles to make butter

Our county fair occurred at the end of August. It was one of the first Washington County Fairs that I missed since I was a child. I am so thankful that my Dad took time out of his day to skype with me while he walked around the fair and showed me all the wonderful people that were there. I have internet sometimes at my house now (expensive and unreliable internet like the electricity here but better than nothing) which allowed me to show my neighbors some images of the fair as my Mom walked around with skype on her phone. They saw all the cows lined up in the barns and watched a bit of the goat show. One of my neighbors said in French, "Wow, America has big cows!" It is amazing how much better I feel when I can connect home with Cameroon. As Guiya sat on my lap holding the Washington County Fair stuffed cow that I gave her and watched the real Fair on the computer, I thought that I saw a twinkle of understanding in her eyes. The U.S. is not just the reality T.V. show that they see on televisions sometimes in Cameroon. It has muddy dirt roads, farm animals, dirty kids playing in front of a house, and poor farmers who can hardly keep up with expenses. But Americans do have choices and freedom. Cameroonians have yet to see they could have that too.

The best part of having internet at my house is when my neighbors sang Happy Birthday in French to my Dad on his birthday. It is that connection that brings a rainbow into my life on a rainy day. I know you all have your busy lives and I am so thankful to have friends back at home that truly miss me. Not all Peace Corps volunteers here have that. But I have another year left and I still need your support. I still need to share this beautiful but different place with you. Because when I get back to the U.S., I want to be ready to jump back into helping you all do what you do best: making our home in the upstate New York so wonderful. And I don’t think I could miss many more Washington County Fairs.

P.S. I was watching Star Wars in French with the children the other day and one of them said I looked like Princess Leia- gosh they know how to make me happy sometimes! And here is the video I made of my trip to Tanzania and hiking Mt Kilimanjaro! https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B0gapyPvKVzcNWdrbzBtSTZ3dW8/view?usp=drive_web

We Made It!!!

 

First words to say: We did it! We made it to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro! And let me tell you, the view was definitely worth the pain! Our adventure started out flying out of Douala airport and making a pit stop in Rwanda (24 hour layover). Kigali, Rwanda is a beautiful city with rolling hills dotted with light brown houses. We made a new friend from Canada who was our “couch surfing” host. He was kind enough to take us out on the town that night. It is amazing how much Rwanda has recovered from the Genocide. It is difficult to think that something so terrible was going on when I was in elementary school. Yet I must remind myself that atrocities like this are happening all around the world every day. We visited the Genocide museum which surprised me with its similarity to U.S. museums since we are still in Africa and I have found so far that no matter how much something reminds of home, there is inevitably something that reminds me that I am still in Africa. The museum brought fresh tears to our eyes but it was a good reminder of what really happened in Rwanda despite its beautiful face today. The country has many rules and even though the small shacks tucked in behind the tall buildings show a similarity to Cameroon, Rwanda is different in that there is a cultural rule to not sell street food or eat food on the streets. Meaning that no matter how hungry I am, I cannot eat my pastry while I’m walking. And the guy we bought omelets with naan from off one of the side streets is completely illegal. Oh and one great food item on our trip: naan. It’s everywhere and it’s delicious.

Rwanda

On to our next destination: Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Unfortunately, I don’t have much positive things to say about the city except that we found an awesome barbecued chicken place near our hostel that I can almost compare to the Argyle Firehouse chicken back at home (don’t worry Dad, the firehouse still cooks the best chicken in the world). Other than that though the city reminds me of parts of NYC that I don’t like to visit. Dirty and many people begging for money. Except these people are wearing the same outfits as my neighbors in Cameroon and they sit against the cement building walls with their feet stuck straight out into the sidewalk as if they were in their own mud huts back in my village. Luckily we didn’t stay in Dar long and proceeded to take the bus to Moshi, Tanzania. We passed fields of what looked like pineapple plants and the mountains can taller as we changed from city to countryside.

Bajaj in Dar es Salaam

Moshi is my favorite city we visited. It is smaller than Dar but bigger than my city, Ngaoundéré in Cameroon. It is a tourist town since it right next to Kilimanjaro, but it is still quaint and peaceful with coffee shops and good places to eat. We stayed with another couch surfing host, a Tanzanian family that gave us bread and spicy tea for breakfast. Our guide company (Gladys Adventures) for Kilimanjaro was amazing. I’m hoping to go back someday and do a safari with them. They helped us check our gear, we rented some warm sleeping bags and off we went to climb the tallest mountain in Africa. Right from the beginning our guide, assistant guide, cook, and porters were so helpful. We drove past areas covered in pine trees and were told that carrots were grown on the hills surrounding Kilimanjaro. And sure enough as we reach the starting point, we passed people next to bags and bags of carrots. When we reached the entrance gate we started hiking in the jungle on a path that wound us through trees covered in shiny green moss and past fields of ferns. Two kinds of monkeys joined us: Colobus and Blue monkeys. The Colobus were more laid back and I think liked the attention. During our first night of camp we met an older American couple and while chatting with them in their tent, we saw a Colobus monkey take a leak on someone else’s tent. Guess we were lucky we weren’t set up under a tree. So while our hikes were a lot of work, our camping was pretty close to luxurious. We had 13 porters that carried everything including the tents and food. We just had to carry our daypacks (which really just held our water for the day) and they set up everything before we got to each site. We had two small tents to sleep in and a tall green tent for meals. We received tea and snacks when we arrived at camp and then dinner was usually soup and something amazing. I ate better on this hike than I ever did in Cameroon or to be honest, at home. (sorry Mom, although Dad’s steak would have been nice). In the morning, they gave us hot water in a bowl to wash up and I could have eaten the cook’s oatmeal breakfast for the rest of my life. Yet the farther we hiked, the more I realized we kind of needed this “glamping”. By day two we were out of the rainforest and into moorland with large shrubby trees where the moss still covered the limbs like silver icicles. Then the lava landscape (Kilimanjaro has been dormant for years) which reminded us of the scenery from “Lord of the Rings” or even “Star Wars”. Our guide knows “Lord of the Rings” really well and we all chose characters along with deciding where we were in Lord of Rings each day. He also could do the voice of Gollum (Smeagol) very well which did not help my heartbeat when he snuck up on me from behind a boulder. He did take great care of us though and stayed positive throughout the whole trip. He even gave us nicknames in Swahili; mine was butterfly. The trek was long but filled with laughter and singing of Celine Dion songs.

Day 1: The Jungle

By day 5 we were already 4250 meters high after we climbed over the Great Barranco Wall. It was more like rock climbing than hiking which was a nice change from the step by step walking in a line for days. We were already noticing that it was becoming more difficult to breathe as we got higher. Thankfully none of us showed any signs of altitude sickness which for me, I am glad I was taking Diamox to prevent it. We didn’t even realize that it was the 4^th of July until Gretchen went to write in her journal. We then proceeded to sing the National Anthem very loudly in front of all the other hikers during lunch. A woman from Ireland asked why we were singing and after I told her, she said the most sincere “Happy Independence Day!” All of the people we met on the hike were friendly and awesome: A couple Americans, a bunch of Canadian guys, Germans, Irish, Dutch, Chileans, Russians, and British. I couldn’t believe how many people climb this mountain and I wonder why they do it. I began to really question myself why I wanted to climb to this mountain in the first place, especially when we got to base camp. It was cold and windy. I felt like I was on the moon and the mountain stood over us like a giant waiting to be attacked. I just kept reminding myself that this was my dream, my dream for a long time. We had started reading out loud “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” every night before bed and now I was thinking that the story of the character’s thoughts before death were similar to mine on this mountain. The first few days were normal hiking, like near my home in the U.S., but when the air decreased and the temperatures got colder, I had so much time to think. To think about my life choices and why I am always living for others and what actually makes me happy in life.

Our tents at first campsite

We had decided to hike the final ascent in the afternoon to see the sunset. Usually hikers wake up at midnight and hike to the tallest peak to see the sunrise but it is extremely cold and well, everyone does that, we wanted to do something different. We were at base camp at about 4640 meters high and it was so windy that they had to take down our meal tent. After lunch, we started our climb to Uhuru Peak, the tallest point on the mountain (5895 meters). I have never been so tired, coughing up dirt/dust, my legs aching, and trying to keep from falling over as the wind swept dirt into my eyes. It was a slow, steady uphill hike that took us the afternoon to reach Stella Point and from there only 150 meters to the peak although it felt much longer. Tears came to my eyes when we reached Stella and then finally Uhuru. The sun was setting on the horizon as we clambered toward the wooden signs and looked down at the glaciers beneath the ledge. It was so beautiful and breathtaking. Never had I felt so much power that I didn’t deserve as we peered across the clouds. This is a view that you usually only see from an airplane. It was spectacular.

Me and the Mountain

After photos we had to descend quickly. We couldn’t stay there long since the sun was almost gone and it would be too cold. This is the part that I do not remember well. Gretchen and Aliz started going down, almost skiing on the loose rock and dirt. I started to go down and then, well, I don’t really remember except that my head started bursting with a migraine and my mind felt like I had taken too much Nyquil. Thank goodness our guide and porter were there to help me and well somehow I got to base camp. Some migraine medication, water, and soup later, I woke up in the morning mostly fine. All of us were still trying to wrap our minds around the fact that we had done it! We had climbed the tallest free-standing mountain in the world! It only took us one day to get down the mountain with a little rain to wash away our sweat and aching limbs. (It takes so long to go up the mountain not only because of going uphill but the path goes the long way around the mountain so we can acclimatize and not get altitude sickness). It only took us 6 days to climb Mount Kilimanjaro and we walked away mostly healthy. Success!

Me, Gretchen, & Aliz at the top!!!

We got to Moshi and rested for a couple days. I also met up with a fellow Peace Corps volunteer from Tanzania whose hometown is Salem, NY! I gave him some stuff that his mom had given me in the U.S. and it was kind of nice to meet someone who could verify to my friends that there really are more cows in my hometown than people. Even though I had a cough I couldn’t get rid of since we got off the mountain, we had a lot of fun hanging out with the Peace Corps volunteers from Tanzania. We then took the bus back to Dar es Salaam and met up with two Australian guys that turned out to be our best friends on the trip. They were going to Zanzibar too so we all caught the ferry the next day and headed to the island off the coast of Tanzania. We visited Stone Town, the main city of Zanzibar where the buildings are so close together that you can walk through little alleyways that make you feel like you are always in a maze. It is still Africa with a little touristic edge. Underneath all the beach tourism, Zanzibar still has the village life that resembles my place in Cameroon. Most of the people in Stone Town are Muslims and celebrating Ramadan so we tried not to eat in front of anyone during the day. We visited an old slave market and saw the basement holdings under a church where they used to keep slaves. Hard to believe that this beautiful island could be the main slave market at one time. After Stone Town, we took a bus to Paje, about an hour away. We stayed in this cute little paradise for a few days. I had never seen one of these beach tourist places before with makuti bandas and bungalows made of palm leafs with sandy floors. (All I could think of was the scenes from movies where people go on vacation to exotic islands). The beach was full of people from all over the world and the blue ocean was full of boats and people kite surfing. Thanks to my parents (who found my scuba diving certification at 5 o’clock in the morning) I was able to go scuba diving in that beautiful ocean. Other than getting a little seasick on the boat, once I was in the water, it was amazing. We saw seahorses, starfish, stingrays, lion fish, frog fish, banded snake eel, clownfish, crab and much more. It was so brilliant to be floating among life under the water especially since it was so clear compared to any other place I have ever dived. It was a good way to end the trip.

Walking through Stone Town

 

Unicorn Fish

 

Hanging with a clownfish

 
 

On the beach with friends in Paje, Zanzibar

We slowly made our way back to Stone Town, Dar es Salaam, and made another stop in Rwanda where we met up with Gretchen’s friend, a Peace Corps volunteer in Rwanda. By the time we got to Douala, a nice air conditioned room and hot shower was all I wanted. Even though this was a vacation, I was always reminded that we were still in Africa and some things were very similar to Cameroon. Besides, I had decided to do two things that I’m always afraid of: climbing very high mountains and diving in the ocean. Might as well conquer fears while visiting new countries and seeing different cultures! With a pit stop in Yaoundé to get some medicine for my cough (still could not bust that mountain cough), I am now back in my village.

I was really nervous about coming back after such an amazing trip and I will not be leaving Cameroon again until next year. I don’t have any more trips to look forward and need to buckle down to work. Yet I felt better after my neighbors greeted me with smiles and hugs. Annie the cat was so happy to see me that she practically slept on my face last night. There are a few good things growing in my garden of weeds including cucumbers. I am meeting with my work partner to plan the visits to soy project participants’ fields. With Ramadan over, people are eating again during the day and life goes back to normal with work and being a Peace Corps volunteer. But is life really ever normal in Cameroon? And gosh, what is normal after being on top of the world and then going to the bottom of it?