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.