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.