December

                The whole month of December was basically spent roaming the country of Cameroon. I passed through or stayed in 8 out of 10 of Cameroon’s different regions. My trip did have some structure - I spent a week at a beach resort for in-service training where my mind lavishly forgot where I have been living since June.  It’s amazing how you don’t even have to leave the country to change landscape, language, food, religious affiliation and mentality. Jaws of the volunteers from the grand North regions of Cameroon dropped in pure awe as we were transported into a green abyss of vegetation – something that is seriously lacking in the Sahel region right now. Add people speaking (somewhat) English, flushing toilets and food prepared American style and you have a setup that will leave your head spinning. All of a sudden I was in a place where the mosque wasn’t waking me up at 5 in the morning every day and clothes that exposed your knees and cleavage didn’t warrant the attention of a large mob. I was visiting my friend in Bafang in the West region and I was surprised to find myself gawking at women who were wearing what I have come to think of as “trashy” and mentioned something to my friend who was genuinely puzzled on what was wrong with the outfit. I guess that is what happens when you live in a place where most women have everything from their ankles to their hair covered.

After spending about four months at post it was really interesting to see how other people were living. People here generally refer to volunteers living in the more developed regions (Center, Northwest, Southwest, West, Littoral, South) as serving in “posh corps” because some of the houses that they live in are actually better than ones they were living in in the US. I know when I spent Christmas in Bangangté I had a slight twinge of jealousy when I saw the volunteer there had a massive second-story balcony overlooking the city and mountains. Then I think of some of my friends around Guider who have neither electricity nor running water.

I spent Christmas in Bafang with my friend and the family of her counterpart. He is a teacher and so we celebrated with his wife, children and students.My first Christmas spent dancing my heart out to "Chop my money" and "Nwa baby."

It was good to have a little break and it was nice to come back to a familiar place with some new perspectives and fresh motivation. I have always loved this about travel. There is something about experiencing something new that allows you to tap into different ways of seeing things. However, I came back to Guider during a very difficult time for Nigeria. The price of gas nearly doubled overnight and ever-increasing tension between the different religions has created chaos. One of my best friends in Guider is Nigerian and one day she and another volunteer were visiting in my house. All of a sudden this crowd of men just starts pounding on my door and shouting in excitement. Naturally, I’m confused and scared as to why these people are there and can’t understand the rapid-fire Fulfulde they are shouting. It was a weird moment when my Nigerian friend looks over at me and says, “They have come to kill the Christians.” Now, before this causes too many concerned eyebrows, it turned out that one of my neighbor’s houses was on fire and apparently I am the only one that has a water spicket outside of my house. I will just say now that I have never once felt threatened or uncomfortable in Cameroon, it was just unsettling what came as a natural reaction to my friend as to why people would be banging on a door.

Il Faut Supporter

I’m sure many of you are wondering what I’m actually doing in Guider. My work primarily consists of forming and advising VSLA (Village Savings and Loan Associations). The basic principle of this methodology is that members of a self-selected group voluntarily form a VSLA and save money though purchasing shares. The savings are invested in a loan fund from which members can borrow, repaying with a service charge added. VSLAs are a form of accumulating savings and credit association, a generic term that describes this type of small-scale community-managed financial institutions. The primary purpose of a VSLA is to provide simple savings and loan facilities in a community that does not have access to formal financial services. Loans can also provide a form of self-insurance to members, supplemented by a social fund which provides small but important grants to members in distress. 

                Many of the groups that use VSLA also have community groups – most of which were started in response to the economic crisis of the 80’s as a means of financial and economic support and are still in place for this purpose. A good number of these groups are not functioning as intended due to lack of organization, leadership or even a clearly defined mission. From creating an organizational structure, teaching/encouraging leadership, performing cost-benefit analysis of income generating activities to facilitating the process of legalizing a group – there are many ways to enhance productivity. This, for me, is the beauty of my work here.  I actually get to go out and access a situation (hopefully objectively) and ask people what they want and need. 

Now, since I have arrived in Cameroon, I seem to go through phases in which the same advice will be given to me over and over, from different situations and unrelated people. For the past three months this has definitely been, “Il faut supporter.” In French, this means “It is necessary to support” - or perhaps more accurately - tolerate, bear or endure. In my head I always interpret this as somewhat close to “Life is tough, suck it up.” The first time I heard it in Guider was in relation to the heat. It didn’t take very long for this little piece of advice to leak over into all areas of my life here. Specifically there have been two instances in my mind that I still remember.

One day I biked to a village close to Guider for a VSLA (village savings and loan association) meeting. Of course meetings never start on time and I count my lucky stars if it is only 20 minutes late; however it’s not abnormal to wait for over an hour. As I’m sitting on the ground waiting for more women in the group to show up, the mother of my community host (God bless her, she is one of the nicest people I have met) senses my growing impatience and just looks at me with her sunken eyes, flashes a hint of a smile and rasps out an apologizing “Il faut supporter.” 

The other situation occurred because, for some silly reason, I let my friend talk me into weaving my hair, which consists of tying and braiding fake hair into your own locks. I’m never one to turn down an offer to partake in any new experience; I have to try everything at least once. Since it is very common for women here to weave their hair, at least if it turned out ugly I would be integrating. Well, I do kind of resemble a crazy Jamaican hippie but that isn’t the worst of it. The lady who braided my hair thought it was ok to show up 3 hours late on the 3 different days it took to attach this ball of fur to my head. Overall, it took over 15 hours to complete. On the third day of torture my friend (who was the one who convinced me this was a good idea) calmly looks over at me as proclaims, “It’s like having a baby, Krystal. I can’t do anything to help you, you have to shoulder all the pain and grief yourself,” – which sounds an awful lot like “Il faut supporter” to me.

Balla

5:00 am – “Allah…!”  I really only understand one word of the morning prayer because it is spoken in Arabic. There is a loudspeaker located close to my house and depending on which of the 5 prayers are being announced (or who is announcing them) it can become pretty animated. Most almost start out in a mesmerizing lullaby which gradually transforms into a scream. I’m not sure which part tells my body that it is time to wake up but it has become a habit. I take advantage of it because the morning is the only time it’s cool enough to do any physical activity and there are not so many people out and about if I go for a run that early. Nothing says “keep running” like hundreds of Cameroonian stares. Add to the fact that I’m the nassara AND I am exercising…this is like bringing the circus to town.

                I’ve started a conscious effort to learn Fulfulde. I’ve discovered it’s much more fun and effective to go and sit with Joy in the market at her shop and study. This provides entertainment for people around me but then they help and correct my pronunciation.  I was also introduced to a man who has a tree nursery but also grow fruits and vegetables. His house is my little heaven in Guider because it’s this amazing garden on the outside of Guider with the aromas of produce and flowers. It also helps that Youbou is really tranquil and his kids are really bright. They have taken on the task of trying to teach me Fulfulde. The first session was more overwhelming than effective because they spew out words like rapid fire. I learned to just interject with the English word: le mouton, balla/balli… sheep.

                I have neighbors who just recently moved from Yaoundé who have a 15 year old daughter who will stop by my house and play cards. Since people don’t speak Fulfulde in Yaoundé she is just as lost as I am in this aspect. It makes me feel a little better that somebody born in Cameroon can be just as displaced as me.

                The presidential elections in Cameroon have been announced and will take place on October 9th. I'm reminded that I'm serving at a particularly unique time because it is the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps worldwide, it will be the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps in Cameroon next year and I get to be here for an election - something that happens once every seven years. We are not expecting anything too exciting to happen but we are required to stay at our post from the 7th of October until the results are announced.

                I would have to say one of my favorite things to do is eat with my friends. Whether it is with Salihou, Joy or Youbou there is something great about sitting on the ground eating supper in a circle that makes me feel grounded, connected and fulfilled. I’m reminded of a class I had in college with Dr. O’Hara. I remember feeling particularly stressed out one particular day, so much so that all I wanted to do was skip – I sucked it up and went. This was a day that O’Hara decided to make tea and have us all sit in a circle on the floor and discuss a reading assignment. I left class not only completely relieved but renewed and grateful. I can’t explain it; it’s really simple things… a deep breath, Stella running up and giving me a hug… sharing good food with great people.

Hee-Haw??

          It’s a little hard to believe that I’ve only been in Guider for a little over two weeks now. That sunny day when all 43 of us lined up and took the oath that “… we will defend the constitution of the United States from enemies foreign and domestic…” seems ages ago, and I’m not sure why. It was a day to be celebrated; we completed 11 weeks of seemingly endless technical, language and culture classes while having to learn just how to live and work in Cameroon.

          So the very next day our training group all said our goodbyes and we were disbursed throughout Cameroon. I arrived in Guider two days later. I faintly remembered site visit some 6 weeks before when I came for 3 days. I wasn’t too sure then why I couldn’t understand very much – maybe I needed more French, perhaps it was an accent… I knew some of it was Fulfulde. I now realize just how prevalent Fulfulde is in my town – French is really only spoken in offices and with people of high authority. Otherwise it’s only Fulfulde. It’s not that people don’t know French, it’s just they have a strong preference for Fulfulde. Which means another round of learning and adaptation for me. Not knowing what is being said around you is more frustrating than it seems.

          Another surprise was in store for me. The Chinese have a strong prevalence in Cameroon, specifically in Guider there is a hospital run by Chinese volunteers. Unfortunately the doctors don’t speak French and their medical advice is questionable at best. They come on a one year rotation so it is hard telling how motivating it is to learn. However, children (and even more depressing) some adults have taken to calling/saying/shouting “hee-haw” at anyone who is not an African. I was told there was a popular song and this is how they understood how people say “hello” in Mandarin. I don’t mind when it is obvious that the kids don’t know any better or if it’s just innocent. The problem arises when it’s used as a derogatory word, repeatedly, in your face. It also doesn’t help that is sounds like a donkey. I’ve also had many instances where kids will wait until the last moment when you are passing on the street and kind of lurch at you with the noise. The two previous volunteers tried many tactics but the best one just turns out to be to ignore it. I guess I know why we had a session on resiliency in training.

          On a happier note, I was in Guider in time to celebrate the end of Ramadan. My community host’s daughter decked my feet out in henna and I went to the morning prayer where hundreds of Muslims gathered in an open area for worship. Afterwards it’s tradition to stop by all of your friends and relatives house to eat as much as you possibly can. I was berated by my community host for taking too little food so he took matters into his own hands and stacked enormous amounts of food on my plate. Without any more room in my stomach I resorted to secretly stuffing food into my bag, not my proudest moment but I was more willing to do that than to be sick from overeating.

          When I first arrived in Guider, the time coincided with the afternoon prayer so Salihou wasn’t answering his phone. I was a little bit in a panic sitting at the bus station in Guider with all of my belongings with no idea of how to get to my house. Luckily, my predecessor had introduced me to some people and one person answered her phone and helped me out. Joy – my saving grace. She is Nigerian and runs a shop in the market with her husband who makes trips back and forth. Joy has been a huge blessing to me here and not only because she speaks English. She is a great cook and more than willing to help with anything I need. Whether it is teaching me how to make bouille (the best way I can describe this is a hot thick milky drink – though it contains no milk), helping me buy a fan, or taking me to Fanta’s to eat grilled fish, she is great. Her two daughters and I frequently hold dance parties in her living room.

          
I will start collaborating with Credit du Sahel soon. At least I will set regular hours for when I will be in the office. I originally planned to do this already but, surprise, I’ve been sick. In theory, Peace Corps gives you three months to adapt, make friends, learn language, set up your house etc. That is maybe true for places that haven’t had previous volunteers but everyone is super anxious for me to start/continue projects.

Almost a Volunteer

            I was gifted a diary from my cousin before I left home that says, “We do not remember day, we remember moments.” This phrase comes to mind as it seems I have successfully been neglecting my blog for the last month or so and indeed, no one day stands out in my mind.

            I am very excited to say that I have just finished my final report for my assigned company which marks the last requirement I had to meet in order to swear-in next Wednesday. This report has followed teaching a 30 minutes class on feasibility studies, a 20 minute presentation on the use of pesticides in Cameroon and three 10 minute presentations about our meetings with our assigned companies – of course all in French.

            As some of you know I tested positive for typhoid a week ago after being sick for about two weeks beforehand. It’s not serious and I am feeling better but the experience in itself is special. Whenever a volunteer isn’t feeling well we are suppose to contact the Peace Corps Medical Officers (PCMO) and seek advice. After testing positive for typhoid, I was in contact with PCMO who proceeded to inform me that the facilities in Bafia are not able to diagnose typhoid and then proceeded to give me conflicting information from what the doctor said about the doses for the medication for a sickness I may or may not have. Lesson? Prevention is key. Luckily more of this will be in my control next week when I move to Guider and have control over how my food is prepared.

            One moment does stand out in my mind from the last month. About a week ago my 3 year old brother was sitting on the floor eating supper. He had a ‘baton de manioc’ in one hand that was serving as a makeshift wand of a king and every 10 seconds or so he would give a throaty “ha, ha, ha!” which would send everyone in the room into a fit of laughter. This very well may be one of those things you “just had to be there” for but anyone who has heard me talk about my little brother knows those conversations usually begin with, “that little twirp” includes, “fake crying” and ends with, “I’m never having children” or “If I had the ambition to dig out my duct tape from the bottom of my suitcase…”

            We also have had some very interesting discussion panels and field trips while in training. Two of my favorites were that of LAGA and RELUFA. LAGA was definitely an inspiring speech from a very passionate man about the preservation of wildlife and the illegal trafficking of the bush meat trade. However, it goes way deeper and aims to attack one of the things that many NGO’s never face directly – the issue of corruption in the country. I strongly suggest checking out their website if you’re interested.

http://www.laga-enforcement.org/

            Also, another one that particularly caught my interest was an organization called RELUFA. Not only do they sell delicious dried fruit from Cameroon but the fruit is harvested by farmers who were driven off their land by a foreign-owned banana company. Their programs include fair trade, food sovereignty, self-development and equity and transparency in the extractive industries. Rumor even has it that the fruit is sold in the U.S.

http://www.relufa.org/

            Please check them out if it interests you. I’m really looking forward to actually being a volunteer and moving to post – however the logistics of getting there with all my stuff is a little daunting right now. Bonne journée tout le monde!

Je suis tombée dans les pommes

            So here is my best effort to sandwich the last two weeks of my life into some form of a comprehensible post. I apologize right now for the jumbled mess of words/thoughts/happenings but please bear with me – if anything the aforementioned scatter is in accord with my experience so far.

We are assigned “community hosts” who are basically there to help us integrate into the community. They have nothing to do with our job but are purely there as a resource for really, anything. My community host is Salihou – and he is one of my heroes here. First off, he loves to laugh and joke and we all know how important laughter is for me to function. Traveling in Cameroon can be really stressful but he really made the trip enjoyable. But really I am grateful because I am comfortable around him and he is really excited to show me around Guider and to start teaching me Fulfulde (Our conversations are a mixture of French, English, and Fulfulde if you can even imagine this.) I probably will refer to him from now on as Silly Salihou.

            Overall, I’m really excited about Guider and the North in general. It is really another world from the rest of Cameroon. Some important differences I appreciate so far:

The environment is more relaxed. People are not so aggressive and I was not once referred to as “la blanche.” Not even nassara (don’t trust my spelling) which is “the white” in Fulfulde. The scenery is really beautiful. There are mountains everywhere along with big boulders and little streams that dot the countryside. Perhaps my favorite aspect is the warm people. I had the opportunity to visit many VSLAs (village savings and loan associations) and tontines that my predecessor worked with and we were always greeted with a short applause and at least 20 handshakes.

            Unfortunately I have suffered my first moto burn. Yes, I know to always mount a motorcycle from the left side. I was dropped off at the bus station in Guider but failed to see a moto pull up behind me and I pressed my leg against it while I was demounting my moto. I have also been sick for the past couple days and I went to the hospital. They took blood to do tests just to make sure it wasn’t Malaria which brings me to my second hero in Cameroon, Nurse Ann. When I told the doctor I was going to faint he disregarded my notion while Nurse Ann took one look at me and rectified my stance. Long story short, she saved me from a potentially long fall. After all that commotion it turned out to be some sort of throat infection. I don’t feel that this diagnosis does my condition justice; I actually slept in my sleeping bag with a fleece blanket inside, wearing my jacket - in Cameroon – and I was still shivering.

             Back in Bafia, I have started learning Fulfulde in French. I love the greetings. To say Hi is “Jam na?” Which literally translates to “Do you have peace?” And the typical response is, “Jam!” (Peace). Why don’t we say things like this? It’s so much better than “how’s it going,” “what’s up,” or “hi.”

            Do you have peace?

Guider!

            Today marked the unraveling of the great mystery of where everyone will be living for two years! I am placed in Guider, North Province. I don’t know much about Guider but it is a large town near Garoua, which is the capital of the North Province. I will be working with Credit du Sahel which is a partner microfinance institution. Previous PCVs at this post also worked a lot with a women’s center on establishing Village Savings and Loan Groups. I supposedly have some pretty big shoes to fill – I have heard nothing but wonderful things about the volunteer I will be replacing.

The North is the hottest province in Cameroon – even hotter than the Extreme North. Traveling to the North takes a long time and trainees laugh and joke that you could return to the US in a shorter amount of time than it takes to get from Bafia to the Northern provinces – it’s true though. A 12 hour train ride starting in Yaoundé will only get you about half-way there; the remaining distance will be covered in a bus.

 I reached my target level in French (Intermediate High) to be posted in a Francophone region. Yes, the North is a French-speaking Muslim province. So now I no longer have to worry about the language requirements for swearing-in in August. Actually, since I met the target level in French I will start studying Fulfulde along with French for the remainder of training.

I leave on Sunday for the voyage up North and will spend a week there so my predecessor can introduce me to the organizations she works with, help me set up a bank account and show me around the area. I will stay with her in her home which will be mine in a short while. I’m told she has a fan :) Happy Fourth of July everyone!