HIIIIII Everyone!!!

So, I am in Maroua for just a few hours- I am actually meeting my future post mate! That's right, another Peace Corps volunteer in Health will be sent to Hina in December! She is supposed to come this week for a visit! So I am here to take her back to Hina and show her around. more on that to come. But while I have internet for a little while, I wanted to take the opportunity to post to pictures. and, also, to THANK YOU to my wonderful friends and family who have been sending me packages and letters non stop!!!! Seriously, I had SIX packages at the post last week!! I feel so loved :) But really, I am so thankful. I'll never be able to explain how much I really really really appreciate all the support. and i looooooove hearing from everyone. thank you thank you thank you. Thinking of you, and miss you all!

Last Saturday, Djolde, my guardian, came to my house and wanted me to come to his Pepinere- it's kind of like a garden/tree nursery. It's super beautiful- he has papaya trees, guava trees, sugar cane, banana trees, potatoes, tangerine trees, etc. he made me bring my camera and it quickly turned into an African photo shoot... i hope you enjoy. and i apologize that they are mostly of me.... Djolde went a bit crazy and this is the result:

Picking guavas...
Tangerine trees!!
Sugar Cane!
Please notice my face: this is the creepy Baptist Minister who likes to come to my house and make me feel uncomfortable...
Djolde! (he like to joke he is my protective big brother) with his papaya tree.
Women coming back from working in the fields all day. such an African moment.
with Zeus in front of the well .

Oh Hey!!!

Greetings from Africa!

I have escaped the technologically lacking wilderness of Hina for a few days, and finally have some web access to post a bit of an update of my life. I know people have been curious as to what’s been going on over here, and I have to apologize for not updating sooner. But this is the first time I have left post in a month! It’s funny how quickly humans adapt; it’s so weird to be in a city (even a city by African standards) and see cars and paved roads and fluorescent lights! Seriously, when I see signs of electricity, I’m a little caught off guard! Anyways here are some tidbits about Claire’s life:

- School is what my life revolves around. There are positives and negatives to this fact, of course, but currently, the positives are outweighing the negatives. And that’s good enough for me. After all, every experience has its ups and downs, and I think all one can hope for is that there are more good times than bad. Anyways, school is keeping me super busy, which is probably a very good thing. The past two weeks have been especially hectic, as it is the end of the Première Sequence (the year is divided into six sequences, each six weeks long. At the end of each sequence, we test students to see if they have learned anything over the last six weeks…) So I wrote my tests, and gave them to the secretary two weeks before the students were scheduled to take their exams. The secretary types all the tests on a giant typewriter (that makes a reverberating tock-tack-tock-tack sound throughout the administrative building, and looks like it was probably donated by some Western office building circa 1977), and then he does this nifty thing where he rolls the paper (that’s on a carbon copy) against ink and it makes copies. This is an archaic procedure to me, much akin to caveman practices. I.e.- I have no idea how this process works, because when it was utilized in the States, it was a decade before my existence was even a slight notion. I tried explaining this to my Cameroonian colleagues, but there are just simply baffled that I, as an American, am not up to date on the latest technology. Which apparently, in Cameroon, is this “ditto” machine- I asked mom if she knew of this contraption, and after some research (namely from Aunt Kathy) she deduced its moniker. Alas, I digress! So I turn my exams in with ample time to spare, yet exam day rolls around, and there are no tests. Anywhere. And not just for me, but for ALL the teachers. The story is, the secretary “fell ill” and didn’t type or copy any of the exams. When the Censeur (the Vice Principal) told me this, I inquired as to why no one in the administration tried to find someone else to type the exams in the regular secretary’s place. I found this to be quite a logical solution, but my suggestion was met with dumbfounded looks. It seems in Cameroon, if the first option doesn’t work, it is considered simply ludacris to look for a solution/ an alternate option. They just shrug their shoulders and say “On fait comment?” (what can you do?) And I want to scream: YOU CAN FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO TYPE THE DAMN EXAMS!!! (Of course, I don’t, I just attempt to re-explain my point of view in my broken French.) It just seems so blaring obvious to me and I don’t understand why the Cameroonians don’t see it. Cultural differences! I know! It’s just frustrating. Finally, they let some reason seep into the system and got the Lamidou’s (he is the traditional chief of Hina) secretary to come and type some of the exams. But by this time, it was the last week of the Sequènce, and all the teachers were frantically trying to schedule their tests. (Last Saturday, we had to have kids come in to take exams, because it was the only time available, and some were there as late as 5 p.m.) There was a complete and total lack of communication, where teachers were trying to give their tests at the same time. Now, many Cameroonians have a laissez-faire attitude when it comes to work, but they can be extremely passionate when it comes to other aspects of life, especially when they feel that they have been slighted. There were some epic battles between teachers trying to give their tests at the same time, each claiming that they had the right to give their exam at that hour. Harsh words were exchanged and I’m convinced that some of the disagreements would have come to blows had some bystanders not intervened. It was chaos! I really couldn’t believe how order disintegrated so quickly and entirely. I commented to one of my colleagues that this system was in complete disorder and needed to re-evaluated. He responded “C’est le sous-développement, c’est comme ça.” And another chimed in, “Ce n’est pas le sous-développement, c’est un refus total de travailler!” Ok, so maybe the problem is that Cameroon is “underdeveloped.” Or maybe the problem is cultural, as there truly is a widespread refusal to work. We could debate all day about what the problem is, but I think the more important question is how do we fix it?? Both my colleagues shrug and say, “On fait comment?” I have a feeling that I may really start to hate this phrase by the end of these two years. In the end, everything worked out. All the tests were given, and the grades may be a bit late getting back to the students, but they will get them. So, as many volunteers find in Cameroon, although it may seem that nothing works, somehow, everything always works out.

As you can see, school has a tendency to toy with my sanity. Most of the administration assumes, for some reason, that I intuitively know how the Cameroonian Education system works. They never explain or give me any notice when something important is happening/there is a deadline for something. When I finally become in the know, and realize I didn’t do something when I was supposed to, they chuckle and say, “that’s ok, you’re foreign!” “But,” I stammer, “I don’t want to be the clueless foreigner! I want to be organized and on top of things and prompt. All you need to do is keep me up to date!” Then they act surprised, like I’m asking for them to procure ice (which doesn’t exist in Hina- slightly difficult to come by without electricity), and promise to tell me “next time.” So I’m slowly realizing that things I consider to be common sense are not here, and I must explicitly ask for something (this includes information) if I want it. And I know that now so hopefully things will roll more smoothly from now on.

I really love my students, in their cut little blue uniforms with their names embroidered on the pocket (where they keep their pens, pencils, rulers, etc). Even the troublemakers- they make me so uncontrollably angry one minute, then they do something totally endearing and I forgive them in the next minute. This does not bode well for my disciplinary skills… But the kids make all the administrative muck bearable. It’s my students who have given me guidance in my desperate attempt to navigate the Cameroonian Educational system (more than my colleagues ever have). When I’m frustrated with anything else about Cameroonian life, I look at them I and I recognize why I am here. The majority of them truly want an education, and they are struggling for it. And it is certainly a struggle to get an education here. It’s no easy task, it seems like all the odds are stacked against the kids. One really has to want it and work for it. If I can help them in even a miniscule way, it will all be worth it.

-La fête des enseignants:

So apparently, “international” teacher’s day was October 5^th. I had never heard of this holiday, but it is “bien fêter” (well celebrated) in Cameroon. Really, any excuse the Cameroonians can find to party and avoid work, they seize with elation. Anyways, here’s the gist of what went on:

All teacher’s buy the same “pagne” (material) and have clothes made from it. So everyone has a different outfit, but in the same material. This year’s pagne displayed a male and female teacher standing in front of blackboards, books, diplomas, and many great adages, like “The teacher says: NO to corruption, NO to smoking, NO drugs, NO to alcoholism, NO to AIDS,” and “Quality teachers for Quality Education,” and “Teaching is a vocation, an engagement, and not simply a job.” And since Cameroon is technically a bilingual country, all of these maxims appear on the pagne in both English and French! Too much, you say?? Never! This is Cameroonian pagne, nothing is too loud or too busy (some of my favourite pagne I’ve seen is gas station themed, that has pumps and attendants ptinted on it, and Department of Transportation pagne, a real gem with every type of transport imaginable printed on it). I had a pretty sweet dress made out of this pagne, by my neighbor, who used her foot powered Singer sewing machine, which looks like it came from an American garage sale and could probably be several decades old. And she put the finishing touches on it by candlelight, while comforting her colicky newborn (who of course was soothed by being tied to his mother’s back with a piece of fabric and kind of jiggled around in a jerky dance- I think this is the African version of those cool vibrating chair things we have for babies.)

The fête was to begin at 7 a.m. at the aptly titled “Place des Fêtes” (which is a wide open space where everyone in village can gather, usually for parties), but of course, things didn’t get rolling until about 11:30. To be fair, it was raining for most of the morning, and in Africa, the slightest bit of precipitation means no one can do anything, anywhere. It’s truly mind-boggling to me how every facet of their daily activities comes to a complete halt when there is a change in weather. But the rain did let up, and so the festivities began. Highlights were speeches by the Sous-Prêfet (the highest government official in Hina, who of course is appointed, not elected), a roundtable debate/discussion of the teacher’s role in the development of Cameroon (this was great and super amazing to hear what actual Cameroonians had to say about this, since I feel like I spent a good bit of training talking about it with other Americans. It was nice to hear what the nationals themselves think), and probably the best: the marching. Yes, you read correctly, the marching. Evidently, in most Cameroonian fêtes, whoever is being celebrated must march. All the teachers stood in rows of four and march, in time, and while singing, across the Place de Fêtes, which can’t be any longer than half a football field. And for some reason, they all thought it would be a great idea for me to be a leader of one of these four lines. Of course, I had zero idea what I was doing, and I also found the whole process to be intolerably hilarious. I really couldn’t stop laughing. I tried, but you know how attempting to stifle laughter just makes it that much more difficult to contain. It was so ridiculous! My colleagues really didn’t understand what I found so funny, and were incredulous when I tried to explain that this does not happen in the United States. “WHAT!? You don’t march?? But how do you celebrate??” Ok, extended family: Christmas 2012, We are all going to line up and march around town (in time, and preferably singing). With all my relatives, I think I could amass a pretty decent sized parade. Then, our holiday in America will be bien fêter, and I can send photographic evidence to my Cameroonian friends to show them that Americans can party just as hard as Cameroonians. Marching included. What do you think?

Developments:

- I don’t know how it has happened, but I somehow have a sort of tan! Ok, ok, it’s not really a tan so much as a slightly beiger shade of white, but I can see the chaco outlines on my feet, and I’ve got a bit of a farmer’s tan going on! (But I am wearing sunscreen! That African sun is intense.)

- I think I can safely say I’m no longer a vegetarian :( I have now eaten goat, sheep, beef, and chicken since being in Hina. I never buy it myself, but if I ever go to anyone’s house, I’m pretty much forced to eat, and the Hinarian (my made up word) diet consists of couscous (usually of millet, it is not couscous like Americans think of couscous, it is ground up millet with water added to it), sauce (usually of oil and a magi cube, which is pure MSG) and meat (usually goat, which I think may be the chewiest, most gristle-infested, and most unappetizing meat ever.) It’s incredibly rude to refuse food when it’s offered to you, in the Cameroonian culture, so I try to just suck it up. I was even pressured into eating a chicken neck! I mean, WHY?!?!? There is barely any meat on a chicken neck! But apparently, it’s “one of the best parts of the chicken” and it was an honour to be offered it. Sigh, what are you going to do?

- Zeus and I have been fighting. We are not getting along! he is being a real jerk. I usually keep him chained up because he does bad things if he’s not. But I’ve been feeling bad about it, so I started to leave him off the chain. Problem is, he follows me to school. Then he runs into the school compound like he owns the place, and even tries to come into the classroom! So I’ve had to attach him before leaving in the mornings, but the problem is, he knows that I want to attach him, and he runs away from me. I have to lunge after him and have a really hard time catching him (he of course sees this as a game). So the other day, I went for a run before school (this means five o’clock in the morning when the moon is still out). I let Zeus come with me a lot; it’s good for him to get out and run around, and frankly, people leave me alone more when he’s with me (they still think it’s weird for a woman to “faire le sport”). Anyways, on the way back home, he got in a fight with two other dogs. I didn’t know what to do, and didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, so I just kept going. Zeus came barreling behind me, evidently trying to escape the other dogs, and I didn’t see him, and he knocked me over, sending me literally tumbling across the rocky road. I was livid. And he knew it. So he ran off somewhere, hiding from me. But when he started to leave for school, he reappeared and began to follow me. The last time he followed me to school, my vice principal was quite upset with me, so I knew I couldn’t let it happen again. So I had to jump off my bike, leave it in a field, and chase Zeus until I finally got a hold of him. Then I had to drag him back by his collar, and he obviously didn’t like that, so he scratched and bit me (didn’t break the skin, he is vaccinated anyway). But this behaviour obviously did not win him any sympathy from me. This only happened two days ago, but since then he knows I am disgusted with him, and he’s been moping around and trying to nuzzle up to me as what I assume is some attempt at reconciliation. But I am quite fed up with his shenanigans. Alas, he is attached to me now, and there is no way to get rid of him, because even if I tried to find a Cameroonian who would take him, he would follow me wherever I go. I think were stuck together!

Other things to hopefully give you a laugh:

- One of the teachers at school heard me incorrectly when I told him my name: he thinks I said Queen instead of Kihn. So he began calling Ms. Queen. I have corrected him on multiple occasions, but no, he prefers Queen to Kihn. And now, he’s dropped the Ms. as well, and when he sees me, he shouts, “Queen!” “Queen!” and then asks me how I’m doing. My mission is to find a equally ridiculous nickname for him…

- So I graded all the tests from the end of the Sequènce and handed them back. I calculated and recorded everyone’s grade and then called out their names to give them the results. I must admit I do not know many of my students names in my defense, I have upwards of 300 students, and here are a couple of examples of names I have to attempt to pronounce: “Zaczou Mbarga,” “Maidjapa Nyera Rode,” “Djitta Ngafka,” “Yaouba Yababa.” I did not make these up. The kids all laugh at me when I try to pronounce their names, and I laugh at myself.

- I asked a child in Sixiéme (6^th grade) how one would respond if they were greeted with the phrase, “Welcome to Cameroon!” (or America/England/Nigeria/ wherever. The response I was looking for was “thank you.”) The kid had no idea, but his friend was dying to help him, convinced that he knew the correct response. I finally asked the confident friend to help him out, and with a smug smile on his face, he emphatically shouts “Bank!” For some reason I found this to be absolutely hilarious and could not contain my laughter. I have no clue why this kid truly believed that when being welcomed, it is only common courtesy to shout “BANK!” in their face.

Alright, these are the things I can think of right now. Hopefully that gives a little information about what’s going on here. I miss everyone terribly and am thinking of you always. I’ll try to post again soon with more Cameroonian stories!

quick!

Sannu everybody!

That means “Hey” in fufulde. So I am in Maroua today for a few hours and I luckily have internet for a little while. I’ll try to update as much as possible before heading back to Hina. School has been in session for two weeks now! I teach Terminale (like seniors in high school), Premiere (like Juniors), Troiseme (like Freshman) and Sixieme (like sixth grade). They kids are all really great and so eager to learn English. However, I have had to teach my classes mostly in French. They have never had an English teacher before, and their level of English speaking ability is nowhere near where it is supposed to be. But they are trying, and hopefully soon we can ease into speaking more English (and maybe they’ll start to be able to understand my American accented English).

Hina is certainly “en Brousse” as the Cameroonians would, say, meaning it is in the middle of nowhere, it’s hard to get there, and there isn’t much there. But the people have all been amazing- so incredibly accepting and welcoming and warm to me. I’m trying to learn more fufulde so I can talk with some of the women in village, as most of them only speak fufulde and no French. little by little. But for the time being, my friends are mostly guys. Like my neighbor, Yousouffa, who I eat breakfast with almost every morning. Or two guys, Alain and Chryso, who are from the Congo, and live in the Catholic mission, training to become priests. Chryso also teaches philosophy and French at the high school. I hang out a lot with the “Catholiques” as the Cameroonians say. At school, I’m the only woman, and it is certainly strange to be surrounded by men constantly. I’m obviously a bit of a novelty, and sometimes I feel like a zoo animal being stared at! This feeling is amplified especially when I teach the Sixieme class and a bunch of students who don’t have class at this time sat outside and hang I the windows to see the “nassara” teaching English. I can’t blame them, they are curious and desperately want to learn English.

I put up some pictures on facebook, but haven’t had time to label them. They are just of my house and other places around Hina. But I have to run, hopefully I can update more soon! I am doing well and I hope everyone else is as well!

trying to get some pictures up, but it's taking forever!

Djoulde, my guardian, his wife, Mamatou, and their baby daughter, Zouara, all dressed up for Ramadan!

the front porch, Zeus is in the corner

The kitchen, that is separate, next to my papaya tree

My house! that's a hangar in the front that is supposed to provide shade, but it's falling down a little bit. hope to get it fixed soon.

Ok, wanted to get up just a few pictures from swearing in:

All of the Extreme North group!

Me and Emily!! She lives in Mokolo, the closest biggest city to me.

Julia and Me and David, our training director.

I am officially a volunteer!! Yay! So actually, I have been a volunteer for about 10 days, but my internet access has been non-existent since before the end of training. My apologies… but I’m here now with some updates.

I swore with the rest of my training class on August 18^th in Bafia. We all had outfits made from the same matching pagne (material)! We had a ceremony with a bunch of Cameroonian and Peace Corps “grands” (i.e. important people) and then we had an awesome lunch to thank our host families. I said goodbye to my host family that night :( it was sad, but I knew I’ll see them again soon. So we new volunteers had a bit of bash at a local hotel in Bafia, and set out to leave for post the next morning.

All of us volunteers heading up to the north of the country (12 of us) headed towards Yaoundé and then got the train up to Ngaoundere on Thursday night. We got into Ngaoundere early Friday morning where us Extreme North kids (8 of us) depot-ed a car just for us and all of our stuff (A TON of things, like a bike, a moto helmet, a bike helmet, a water filter, a giant trunk, a mammoth suitcase, a colossal hiker’s back-pack, and countless other odds and ends- and that was just MY stuff!!!) to Maroua. We got into Maroua, the regional capital of the Extreme North, and were able to relax for a little while. On Saturday, we attempted to do some shopping for groceries, furnishings for our houses, etc. It proved to be mildly fruitful. Maroua has an amazzzzzing market full of color and culture and almost anything your heart desires. Except for a gas tank. I was told it is impossible to find one of these treasures in all of Cameroon. I know for a fact this is a bold face lie. Why it is so necessary to my life to have a gas tank: I bought a stove, and by stove I mean one of those kind of collapsible things with two burners that you take camping and hook up a gas tank to it to cook. Obviously, the stove does not work without a gas tank. It is very difficult to cook without said gas, and right now, it is pretty necessary to be able to cook/boil water since there has been a Cholera outbreak in the Extreme North of Cameroon… No one panic! Cholera is easily avoidable if you wash your hands, bleach your vegetables, boil your water, etc. In fact, even if you do get it, it’s easily treatable with anti-biotics and re-hydration with NON-contaminated water. So I’ve been cooking over a wood fire until I can maybe, perhaps, hopefully, fingers crossed, find someone who will sell me a gas tank. Now, as some of you know, I looooove making fires. Fire building is one of my favorite pastimes, and I’ve been quite offended, in the past, by those who have suggested that I lacked the ability to produce this element. But I must admit, it is quite time and energy consuming to start and maintain a fire every time I want to boil some water. I have the time to do it now, but once school starts (September 6!!!), I’m not so sure I’ll have as much time to throw around. So here’s hoping (and praying and wishing and lobbying Paul Biya) that gas tank finds it’s way to me sooner rather than later.

Whew! That was a tangent! Ok, back to actually getting to Hina… So Sunday, Emily, Zach, two volunteers who are posted in Mokolo (a town about 50 kilometers north of me), and I depot-ed a car from Maroua to Mokolo. We dropped them off and then our driver, Alim, and I continued on to Hina. And we got there- alive, safe, and sound. But during the trip, there were definitely some instances were I doubted that would be the outcome! The problem is, there are no paved roads leading to Hina. This apparently is really not that big of a deal during the dry season, the roads are supposed to be pretty good and easily passable. But as soon as the rainy season rears its ugly head, the roads turn to mud, parts of them get completely washed out, and one begins to fear that their four-wheel-drive vehicle will get stuck in the mud/overturned in rushing water. But alas, I finally made it to Hina, unscathed, and moved all of my things in.

My house is pretty much cleaned, and I’m all the way unpacked! I’m trying to get my bearings and figure out how village life works. I’m pretty much waiting around for school to start, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself, since all of the school administration is still on vacation and won’t be back until probably a day or two until school starts. But I think this is a good thing, it will give me some time to explore and discover Hina before jumping into the scholastic side of things.

Some tidbits:

-I have a dog! His name is Zeus. I really have no idea what kind of dog he is, I’m sure a mutt of many different combination. But he is short haired, smaller than a lab but bigger than a terrier, and black with white legs with black spots. He likes to whine a lot :) but he is good for the most part and doesn’t bite and let’s me know when there is someone at my door!

- I’ve been attempting to speak Fufuldé with Hina locals… mainly it’s them saying something wayyyyy too fast, me smiling and nodding, then rambling off the ten words I know in the language, and the receiver feigning to be impressed by my butchering of their mother tongue. It’s great! As the Cameroonians say, petit à petit (little by little) it will come. And once I’ve mastered Fufuldé, I can move on to the other, smaller, language of Hinarre, that is only spoken in Hina by about 30,000 people in total (I think…)

-I negotiated my rent agreement and lease contract in a Fufuldé-French combination. I was a little too pleased with myself. :)

-I have three fig trees in my yard. They are blooming and soooooo good!

- up north, I have a new name. remember, in the south, we were called “les blanches?” here, it’s “nassara”- literally white person in fufuldé!

-Hina is in a valley that is surrounded by jagged mountains that look like mounds of boulders that have been glued together. since we are in the three seasons that constitute the rainy season (july, august, september), everything is vibrantly green. It is breathtaking. I’ll try to get some pictures up asap.

I know there is much more I’m forgetting but it will have to come in my next post. I’m hoping to get back to Maroua this weekend to search for that darned gas tank, and with any luck I’ll post this if I can find some internet there. Love everybody, miss everybody, and thinking about everyone allllll the time!!!

Some more Cameroon pictures

So, in Cameroon, most clothes are made for you by a tailor. Material, or pagne as the Cameroonians call it, is sold everywhere. You choose the material you want, take it to a tailor, tell them what style they want, et violà! you have a dress/pants/shirt/skirt/shorts/whatever your heart desires! So, in the above photo, this is me and my friend Claire. Yes, Claire. and we are wearing matching dresses (same style, same pagne). Oh, yeah, it's Claire pagne. and I have a feeling it's the first of many Claire pagne ensembles to come!

For Model School, we had clubs with the students every Wednesday. One of the clubs was called "Need for Speed," and it was a running club. Last Saturday, they organized a 5 k run. It was so fun! I had to take a picture of this kid, because he decided it was a great idea to take off his flip flops to run, and I guess he thought they would be most useful as forearm guards. maybe if he fell, they would mitigate scrapes??

A Cameroonian classroom! This is my Terminale class (high school seniors at home)

American Dinner!

I made an “American” dinner for my host family! They have asked me on multiple occasions what kind of food we eat in the United States. It’s a very frequent topic of conversation. And when I think about it, food directed many of the questions I’ve received from Americans about life in Cameroon. It makes sense- food is universal! We all need it to survive, and of course we’re curious about different cultures’ cuisines. Anyways, my host family has been quite inquisitive about what we Americans eat, and they asked me to cook American! I was trying to figure out what to make, given the availability of ingredients and the alien (to me!) cooking equipment here. So I ended up making macaroni and cheese, Grandma’s German potato salad, and cole slaw.

First of all, we must address the issue that, for some reason, cheese is nearly non-existent in this country. The only cheese one can find is “Vache qui rit.” Yes, that’s right- directly translated that is the “Cow who laughs,” or Laughing Cow cheese! So how you make macaroni and cheese Cameroonian style: cook pasta, add butter, powdered milk, water, Vache qui Rit (it kind of just dissolves into the pasta), and then as many spices as one deems necessary to make it edible (basil worked very nicely). You also need an experienced and skilled mixer, mine was in the form of Julia, my amazing friend and fellow TEFL volunteer who provided some much needed moral support during the cooking extravaganza.

Mom sent me Grandma’s German potato salad (because she’s awesome) and it turned out exactly like Grandma’s! (well, ok not exactly- I’m not sure that bacon exists here…) It was so surreal to see and smell the potato salad in Cameroon; it reminds me so much of home! It was cool to be able to recreate some little comforts of home even though I’m an ocean away. And then we made cole slaw- with carrots and cabbage!!!!!!!!! There are so many explanation points here because I (and I think most of the other volunteers) have not had any raw vegetables since being here. I’ve had cooked vegetables (I’m not that malnourished, yet!), put the Peace Corps medical officers did a pretty stellar job of terrifying us about the dangers of eating improperly cleaned/prepared fresh fruits and vegetables. But I soaked the veggies in a bleach/water combo and scrubbed them. And no one got sick! Yay!

So my family was pretty darn jazzed about this whole event. Some quotes:

Beatrice, my mom: “Oh my, it’s like we’re all in America tonight!”

Guy, my dad: “I know! Barack Obama and I are eating the same dinner tonight!”

Mimi, my five-year-old sister “Claire, the food is delicious! I’m practicing eating your food for when you take me back to the United States with you!” (she’s convinced I will take her home with me in two years…)

Vanessa, my oldest host sister: “So what are you making next week?? Le pizza?? Les hamburgers?”

Then their cousin who’s been visiting for the last two weeks (who is from the Anglophone part of the country, but for some reason only speaks Pidgin- a warped mélange of English and random Western African dialect) started impersonating “Americans.” This means he began talking in a very loud, somewhat haughty voice, saying things like, “Oh, I am American, I work all the time, all the time!” “I am busy, oh, very busy.” “I love McDonald’s! it is very nice!”

Evidently, it was quite hilarious, overall an entertaining (and cross-cultural! *read Peace Corps*) evening.

Some host family pictures!

Yup, they're gangsters.

Me, Fabiola, Batou, and Mimi- my youngest sister.

Parfait (yes that literally means Perfect) who is a cousin, Nora who is another cousin, Beatrice-my mom, Batou- my brother, Vanessa- my older sister, Fabiola- my younger sister (she's was thrilled to be alive at this particular moment..), and John- another cousin. I kept asking them to smile, put they weren't having it! apparently smiling in photos just isn't cool.

My Host brother, Ariel. He thinks he's a model. Look at that silk shirt (unbottoned, of course!) and that bling!!

Tu es là?

There are many small nuances to life and culture in Cameroon. I realized that many of them have now become commonplace to me. But I want to describe and detail them to you at home before I become too accustomed and forget how different and strange these little nuance are…

One of my favourite Cameroonian greetings:

When you see someone and you are first greeting them, you say “Tu es là?” which literally means “Are you there?” Then the person you asked answers, “Oui, je suis là.” Which means “Yes, I am here.” It’s just so funny to me because it’s so unnecessary. Obviously, that person is there, you’re looking at them! There are a lot of these greetings and saying in the Cameroonian French. They really like to point out the obvious, and spend a lot of time discussing/commenting on/dwelling on the blatantly evident aspects of life. Example: I get home to my host family’s and the first thing my father says to me is “Tu es là?” and of course, I answer “Oui, Guy, je suis là.”

Many times in Cameroonian life, there is a need to describe things with “beaucoup,” which means, “a lot.” i.e.: “there is A LOT of corruption in Cameroon,” or “there are A LOT of les blanches in Bafia now that all you Peace Corps volunteers here,” or “ .” there is a quirk here in Cameroon- they have a hand gesture that accompanies beaucoup! So almost every time they say beaucoup (usually to emphasize that there is many many many!) they make a fist with their right hand and take their left hand (palm out and facing down) and hit the top of their fist hand multiple times. that proved pretty difficult to explain via text. I wish I could show you, seeing the action is so much better…

One of my other favourite (yes, I am spelling everything the British way now, and using all British vocabulary, because the Cameroon educational system teachers British English, and that’s what their students are tested on, so that is what I am teaching- if the kids answer with “American English” on their nationwide exams, they will get the answer wrong!) sayings is “Nous sommes ensemble.” This is translated as “We are together.” Cameroonians use this a parting saying. So if you run into someone in the street, you have a little conversation about the weather and the health of their family, and when you part ways, one of you says “Nous sommes ensemble!” and the other answers, “Oui, Nous sommes ensemble!” The first time a Cameroon said this to me, he translated it into English. I didn’t realize at the time that this is simply a way to say goodbye, and thoroughly confused myself trying to comprehend what he meant. This saying is also used in the classroom frequently, usually when kids are talking/disturbing/not paying attention. The teacher asks, “Are we together?” and it is meant as a sort of rhetorical question and is simply a subtler way of telling the kids to shut up and listen.

Sachets! Ok, I heard rumors of this fact before coming, but now that I am here, I can verify its truth: many Cameroonians are alcoholics. Functioning alcoholics, but alcoholics nevertheless. You should see the size of the beer bottles here! Two American beers could fit inside one Cameroonian bottle easily. They also enjoy their palm wine… at anytime, including 8 o’clock I the morning. But it entertains me the most when they drink sachets. What are sachets? Well, sachets are square, sealed plastic bags. Full of liquor. Any type you want, vodka, whiskey, gin, rum, etc. There are probably about 4 or 5 ounces of liquid in each sachet, and you can buy one for 100 CFA (about 20 cents). Many people buy a few sachets and mix them in whatever soda or juice they are drinking, but those who are a bit more intense (like numerous moto drivers… safe??) like to just cut a small hole in the side of the sachet and drink their liquor straight, sort of juice box-style. When I first got here, I saw empty sachets littered all over the place. I was curious as to what they were, but I quickly deduced their contents after spotting a plethora of them outside the bar I pass walking to school everyday. Now I know, I and can steer clear of any moto drivers sucking on a plastic bag of questionable liquid!!

Some other news from in country (yes, this is what we say when referring to anything that happens here. yes, I know some of you have mocked me. no, I don’t care, and will continue to use this terminology.):

The Bananas Song has taken over Bafia!!! So last post I talked about how I had taught Bananas in class to my 5eme students. It REALLY caught on, and every time I see these students (in school or out) they start shouting “Peel, Peel Bananas/Eat, Eat Bananas/Go, Go Bananas!!” They have had other English teachers and have demanded to sing this song even when I’m not their teacher! My friend, Julia, another TEFL volunteer, taught it to her 3eme class, and now all the 3eme students are singing it! But it gets bigger. All of the 5eme and 3eme students have gone home and taught the Bananas song to their multiple siblings. So now countless children throughout Bafia know this song and I must hear 492 times a day. Walking almost anywhere I’m pretty much guaranteed to encounter it, and if I am ever eating a banana (which happens quite often, they are a staple in Bafia), it is certain some children will see me and begin chanting “Eat, Eat, Bananas!” But I haven’t gotten sick of the song yet. Not even a little bit :)

This week I’ve mainly been teaching the Terminale students (who are like our seniors in high school.) But I came in on Tuesday, and there were only three students in my class which usually has about 30! After a lot exciting French shouting, I realized that the Probatoire results had been posted. Probatoire is the nation-wide exam that is given after the Première year (like our junior year of high school) in the Francophone system. One must pass this test to continue on to the Terminale level. [There is also an exam after the Troisème year (like freshman year of high school) called le BEPC which must be passed to continue on to Seconde (like sophomore year of high school) and the BAC is the test that students take after Terminale and must pass to continue on to university. All these tests are commissioned by the government, written/graded by committee of teachers, and the same exact test is administered across the nation.] I think their system is crazy, complex, and ineffective. I simply doesn’t make sense to me to evaluate a student’s whole year of work based on one, two hour long test of arbitrary and ambiguous questions. Putting that much pressure and weight on one test isn’t logical. It sets the students up to fail. And fail they did- almost half my class didn’t pass the Probatoire, meaning they have to retake their whole première year. And this is why you’ll have students in Terminale who are older than I am. It’s a frustrating system, and heartbreaking to see the kids in tears, running home despondent and defeated. When I got home, I asked my host family about it and it sparked a huge debate about the inadequacies of the Cameroonian educational system. It ended as many discussions in Cameroon do, with the question “On va faire comment,” best translated as “What are you gonna do??” Maybe after a little more time here, I can come up with some answers to/suggestions for that question.

Well, I’m off to write an exam, next week is the last week of model school. The kids will take their tests on Friday, and then we’ll do lots of fun activities. More to come on that later. Miss you all and thinking about you! Nous sommes ensemble!

Me=teacher...?????

So… guess what?? I AM a teacher! This is a very new/foreign/bizarre assertion to make out loud. But I am now halfway through my second week of model school. There isn’t really anything “model” about this school; it’s pretty real. I am in a real Cameroonian school, with real Cameroonian students (and a large amount of those students, just like it will be in a real Cameroonian school), teaching from the real Cameroonian syllabus, with real Cameroonian textbooks. It’s crazy! The class I have taught the most is Cinquième, or our equivalent to seventh grade. They are… a handful. But they are certainly energetic and they keep me on my toes and they make me laugh a lot. Discipline is the big issue with these kids. Examples: they love hitting each other! I confiscated an old electrical cord one of my students had brought to class and was poking the girls in front of him with… one boy stole chalk from goodness knows where and started drawing on all the desks in the radius of his reach. Later, I was writing on the board, and I looked down and there was a child next to me pointing at the left side of his body. He was covered in chalk! The same kid had taken the commandeered piece of chalk and drawn all over the other child! They are obsessed with writing in their exercise books using red and blue pens (red to write the headings of activities/exercises, and blue to write the actual content) and rulers (or protractors or folded paper or other pens, anything that has a straight edge) to draw lines under headings, or fill in the blank lines or chart lines, etc. so stealing each others pens and rulers is a common practice. They all sit at benches that can comfortably seat two students. But they like to squeeze four or five to one of these benches and practically sit on top of each other (and then shove and elbow each to win some space). There is a class prefect, who is supposed to help the teacher discipline, take role, make sure the classroom is clean, etc. I would think this would totally be the kid who gets beat up after school behind the bleachers, but it’s actually the opposite- he’s very popular and relishes his role of enforcer. His favorite admonishment phrase is “Stop noise!” and another tactic is to appeal to me, with “Mada me, they are disturbing!!” ah, sometimes it’s pure chaos, and all you can do is laugh! Like I said, they definitely keep me on my game. I mean, these stories are just so ridiculous, all I can do is be entertained by them. What else can you do? What is probably more of a challenge than the discipline is the level of English of my students. The Cameroonian syllabus calls for teachers all across the country to teach a very specific level of English to each level. But the level it assumes my cinquième level students have attained is simply not reality for the majority of my students. What’s more, there is a monstrous gap in my class between a few students who can speak English very well and those who don’t understand a word that comes out of my mouth. How can I create lessons that instruct the lower level students on a plane that they can understand without boring my more advanced students out of their minds?? It is certainly a challenge, and one of the many reasons why the Cameroonian education system needs to evolve and grow and change. Just one of the many frustrations that comes with (attempting to bring about) development.

But there are some great moments to even out those annoyances/aggravations. Like I’ve taught the upper level classes, called première and terminale, which are the equivalent of juniors and seniors. They are soooo great. They are of course much better behaviour wise. In the one class, we had a discussion about different religious stereotypes! They discussed amongst themselves and talked about stereotypes that they know others have of their religion, and stereotypes they have of other’s religions. It was so great, they were hesitant at first, but they got really into it! The Cameroonian system is so structured and generally only allows for teachers to dump unmanageable amounts of information on their students. Most Cameroonian teachers simply lecture to their students, and there is never any room for discussion or generation of ideas or critical thinking. It’s terrible, many students can only regurgitate would has been ingrained into their heads, and they are terrified when asked to do anything in class besides take notes. Obviously, this is awful for teaching language. They need to speak to ever have a hope of being able to communicate in English. So it was super amazing to have them participate in and enjoy an activity where they actually got to speak and voice their opinions.

Another great moment, and this is especially for Puh’tok people: I have now taught all my classes the bananas song and the Penguin Attention! song!! I they freaking love them both. Forcing my students to sing camp songs is my way of channeling my longing and nostalgia for Puh’tok… next I may just start making them sing, “I wanna go back, where!?”

I was walking home with my friend, Julia, and we walked past a house where another volunteer lives. I think they are probably 8 or 9 children who live at this house, and we see them almost daily, as we pass their house on the walk home. They usually run out to greet us, but this day, they started running towards us, yelling “Madame Kihn! Madame Kihn! Madame Kihn!” I was so confused as to how they knew my name! It turns out their older sister is in my 5eme class. She had told her parents and siblings about me, and described well enough that the kids recognized me when I walked by the house! It was such a surreal and funny and rewarding moment.

Some other highlights:

- Fufuldé language learning has been going relatively swimmingly. We learned to count yesterday. Would you like to know how to say 999 in fufuldé? Because I can tell you! It’s “teeméré jowé nay e cappande jowé nay e jowé nay.” Yeah… I can’t wait to get to the market in Hina to test out my fufuldé counting skills!

- I went on my first shared moto ride (up until this point I’ve only been brave enough to ride with just me and the driver). I think I should have stuck with that rule. It’s very common in Cameroon to shove as many people/objects onto a moto as humanely possible. I have seen 5 full grown adults on a moto, and am waiting to top that record. But when Julia and I tried, we did not experience success… First of all, a moto can just barely fit two adults when they are of normal size. So, with the driver in front, me in the middle, and Julia in the back, all of our personal space bubbles were violated, actually, they were demolished into smithereens. One has to pretty much straddle the person in front of them to not fall off, and let’s just say, I was all up in this moto driver’s grill. So we were going to centre-ville (the center of town) to the super-marché (supermarket), but when we were almost there, we saw that the paved road had been blocked off because they were doing some construction. Our moto driver took the unpaved road. Unpaved road in Cameroon is synonymous with giant ditch. So it was quite treacherous, and all I could think was, “we are going to fall, there is no way we won’t fall off this moto.” And… surprise! He lost balance and the moto tipped over! We were completely fine, because the moto was almost completely stationary at this point, so we were able to kind of jump out of harm’s way. I don’t think either of us will be sharing any motos in the next two years!

- My host mother asked me what kind of cream I put on “tes taches” to treat them. Literally translated, tache is a spot. She was referring to my freckles. I had to explain that they were not a malady or skin ailment, but a part of my skin that I had been born with. It was pretty hilarious. I tried to explain that many Caucasian have freckles and it’s just part of our pigmentation. it was just so funny to me. I never thought I would need to explain freckles to someone!

There’s less than a month left of training, I can’t believe it! Time has flown by, but at the same time it seems like I’ve been here for months and months. Very soon it will be off to post, fingers crossed I can get myself and all my stuff there without too much of a challenge. Love and miss everyone terribly, thinking about all and hoping you’re all doing fantastic!!

LETTERS!!!

So this will be quick- yesterday, one of the Peace Corps logistics guys was running all over the lycée where our model school is looking for me. I, paranoid as always, thought I was in trouble, but it turns out he had a package for me AND multiple letters!!! It was like Christmas! Just wanted to say a huge MERCI to mom and dad for the package, Ben Molly Joey and Bradley for the adorable card, Grammy for the sweet note, and Linda for the letter and awesome articles. You guys are amazing, you have NO idea how much it means to me to know you are thinking of me. I am thinking of you all as well and am in the process of sending letters (with sweet Cameroonian stamps) to everyone. Just wanted to say thank you quickly and let you know how appreciated the little things are. They go a long way when you're so far from home, living in such a different culture it could be a different planet! Anyways, made my week, thanks again :)

post site visit!

So we are now in Week Five of Training and our Model School has officially began! In fact, it was supposed to be ushered into being with the pomp and circumstance of a super fancy opening ceremony on Tuesday morning. It was scheduled to begin at 8am. So all the volunteers were there. All the Cameroonian teachers who are also teaching at the model school were there. And the Peace Corps administration were there. All the students who will be attending model school were there (in lines, in a field, in direct sunlight). But the actual ceremony did not start until after 11:00. We had to wait for the Prefet and the Sous-Prefet to show up. These are appointed officials of every town in Cameroon- a direct translation would be a Senior Divisional Officer and a Sub-Divisional Officer. They operate on their own “African Time.” And you do not question their warped sense of time. So we waited. For three hours. But they finally did show up and the Cameroonian students raised their flag and sang their national anthem. And us trainees were forced to sing the Star Spangled Banner. Let’s just say it’s probably a good thing none of us our here to give singing lessons. Except maybe Liz, who hit the soprano note in “o’er the land of the freeeeeeeee.” It was pretty much awesome. So model school has commenced! We are all observing the Cameroonian teachers, and some Peace Corps Volunteers who have been here for a year already, this week, and I’ll start teaching English next week (eight hours to be exact). AND I started learning Fufuldé today! I forgot how absolutely infantile one feels when they start learning a new language. But I’m super jazzed about it! It’s quite an experience to learn a new language by a teacher explaining said language in another language that is not your mother tongue. Ok, that was slightly convoluted; I’m trying to say Aicha, the woman who is teaching us Fufuldé, speaks only French and Fufuldé to us, so she explains grammar points and vocabulary of Fufuldé, in French. It turns out to be awesome, because this way I can learn Fufuldé AND improve my French! Win-Win! Also, since I am at an “advanced” (notice quotation marks) level of French, we are supposed to be writing a weekly newsletter for all the trainees and instructors. We had one issue already and are about to start working on the next one. Needless to say, we got a lot going on! But it’s good to be busy and I know all this information is going to be indispensable when I get to post.
Speaking of post…. I’ve jumped ahead of myself and described what’s going on right now, but I haven’t forgot I need to detail the events of last week. They are vital to my Cameroonian life! Last week, I went on site visit. I will by teaching at the Lycée Gouvermental du Hina, and my censeur (the vice principal), named Gabriel Nono, came to meet me in Bafia last Monday. We had a workshop in Bafia on Monday and Tuesday morning, and then we departed for a VERY long journey to the Extreme North Region of Cameroon on Tuesday, around 1pm.
So, the Grand North of Cameroon consists of three regions: Adamawa, North, and Extreme North. In my stage (the name we call our training group) there will be two Education (ED) and two Small Enterprise Development (SED) volunteers in Adamawa, no new volunteers posted in the North, and five ED and three SED volunteers posted in the Extreme North. All of the ED volunteers had there site visits at the same time, so all seven of us going to the Grand North (and our counterparts who came to meet us in Bafia) took a bus from Bafia to Yaoundé to start our journey. This is only supposed to take about 2 hours, but some traffic issues made it take more like 3 ½. Oh, yes, and by bus I mean one of those white passenger vans where, in America, three people would sit to a seat. In Cameroon, at least five people sit to seat, and children don’t count as people, so they are just laid across laps. Luggage is put on top of the van and tied down with a tarp (and by luggage I mean anything from produce to furniture to goats. Yes, live goats.) So we get to Yaoundé Tuesday night, grab a taxi, navigate to the train station, and get on the train with just a little time to spare. The train is an overnight journey that takes about 14-16 hours (although I’ve heard that number can be elevated to near 30) to Ngaoundere in the Adamawa region (if you look at a map, it’s about the halfway mark of the country). The train was SWEET. It was probably the best part of the traveling, since we had couchettes! Couchettes= bunk beds, 4 in your own little room on the train. It was pretty awesome to be able to move around and to SLEEP! So we arrived on Wednesday morning in Ngaoundere. Andrew and Andrea parted ways with us there to find there posts, as they will be in the Adamawa region. Liz, Rose, Emily, and Claire (yes! there is another Claire, her last name is Kelly so we’re also both CK!, and we are both going to be living in the Extreme North, and she’s super cool and we’re friends, and we’ve bonded over our Claire-ness and we referred to as the “Claires” a lot and shout out to Claire’s Jersey friends who have read my blog since she hasn’t updated hers, and I’m finished with my Claire tangent ☺) continued on with our counterparts by hoping on a 7 hour bus ride to Maroua, the regional capital of the Extreme North. This bus was more spacious, more like a Greyhound bus. Just a very long ride (7 hours usually turns into more like 9) and hot. So we arrived in Maroua on Wednesday night and we stayed in the Peace Corps house there. We met some of the volunteers there, and one of them, Stephen (i.e. our savior), showed us around Maroua, took us to restaurant that had CHEESE (almost non-existent in Cameroon), and helped us open bank accounts the next morning. We would have completely floundered without him! Honestly, the volunteers in country were the reason any of us survived this trip. They took care of us and showed us the ropes despite being warned of our imminent arrival only hours before in some cases. They were GREAT and we couldn’t thank them enough. Anyways, back to Thursday, Gabriel (my censeur) met me at the Peace Corps house, and we took a 3 hour moto ride to Hina. On unpaved roads. What is a moto some of you may be asking? Well, I think the best equivalent at home I can describe it as is a moped. They are absolutely everywhere here. Guys drive them around, and you just flag on down and jump on the back to get around any town or village. It is the standard way to travel. And to transport anything. I mean anything. They transport live animals, furniture, produce, suitcases, bikes, other motos, etc. on motos. So we get to Hina as the sun is setting on Thursday. This time is important since there is no electricity in Hina…
Once in Hina, I went to Brad’s house. Brad was a Health volunteer who was posted in Hina. He was supposed to be there until December, but he left earlier because he got an awesome scholarship and is going to start grad school in August… NOT because he didn’t like Hina (a relief to hear, I must admit). His house is said to be in a secure part of Hina, it’s walled in, has a pit latrine, a bedroom, a sitting room, a space to shower (a room with a drain), and a kitchen that is detached from the house. I met the dog Brad left behind (still not sure of his name) and Djulde, the guy who guards the house when no one is there. Then Gabriel came over and we had some dinner and talked a while before much needed sleep. Friday Gabriel and I were up and ready to go at 6:30. We comissioned two motos to take us around Hina to see the Lycée (which is situated on a HUGE expanse of land), meet the lamidou (an important chief of the village who only speaks Fufuldé and gave me cake!), the mayor (who gave me a juice box of Sangria at 7 in the morning!), the chief of police, the chief of the gendarmarie (another division of security), a head of an agricultural committee, and I got to meet my provisieur (prinicipal) which was lucky because he was supposed to be in Maroua. It was a whirlwind tour, and I wish I would have been able to spend more time in Hina and been able to explore a bit more, but I had to catch a truck to Mokolo. Mokolo is a much bigger town then Hina and about 2 hours away. There is a big market in Hina on Friday, and sellers from Mokolo come in to sell there goods. Gabriel and I hitched a ride back to Mokolo with them (they were supposed to leave at 10, but didn’t actually leave until 12:30). Once in Mokolo, we ran into Emily’s provisieur who insisted that I stay in Mokolo that night and travel back to Maroua the next morning. So he took me to a bar and ordered me some meat dish that I think was goat. I ATE IT. All of it! (attn: Cluck and/or Jason if you are reading this). It was gross. I’m not even going to sugar coat it. Then Emily (the volunteer from my stage who will be posted in Mokolo) and Fleurange (the SED volunteer who has been in Mokolo for two years and is leaving in less than two weeks) met us at the bar. Fleurange offered to let me stay at her house because she’s amazing, and so I spent the rest of the day in Mokolo. We saw Emily’s house, visited another volunteer in Mokolo, ate tofu (YES! They have tofu in Mokolo!), and explored Mokolo a bit. Then Friday we woke up super early and caught a bus to Maroua. We got there and rendez-vous –ed with Rose, Liz, and Claire who had been in Mora (another bigger town in the Extreme North). We bought tickets for a bus back to Ngaoundere, but waited for 2 ½ hours before it actually left. This bus to not get to Ngaoundere until after 9pm. It was pretty miserable. We all were having some intense stomach issues. I don’t want to be too graphic, but I think it necessary to share this detail- I felt nauseous almost the entire ride, but I only threw up once on the bus. Luckily I had a plastic bag with me, and after I had filled it just tossed it out the window. It’s actually a hilarious visual to me, now that I am feeling much better and off that darn bus! We were all super dehydrated and I also had stuffed up nose/sore throat/headache combo going on. Evidently, when we got to the Peace Corps house in Ngaoundere we were extremely relieved. The next day we finally had a bit of down time, so we just sat around mostly as ALL our energy had been pretty much spent. But it was the Fourth of July, and the super generous and fantastic volunteers at the cas (peace corps house) in ngaoundere shared a sweet barbeque with us, complete with hamburgers, potato salad, and fruit salad. Then we had to catch the overnight train back to Yaoundé that night. We got to Yaoundé Monday morning and took a bus back to Bafia, finally getting back to Bafia in the early afternoon. Whew! I’m sure I forgot some details, but that is the general outline of the crazy adventure of traveling almost the entire span of the country in six days. It was definitely worth it to be able to see Hina and experience the trip up there for myself, it just would have been nice if the logistics were slightly better planned. I’m excited to go to post, but I’m really happy to be back in Bafia. I’m looking forward to spending the next several weeks with my host family, practicing at the model school, hanging out with the other trainees, and just passing time in Bafia. So I think I’ve babbled on long enough, I’ll stop there, and more updates to come soon!

I know! It's been a while since I've posted a new update. I thought it had been forever, but in reality, it's only been a week and half! Time is strange here, It's been three weeks, but seems like it's been three months! But at the same time, I canÕt believe three weeks of training has already come and gone. The Peace Corps has been keeping me super busy. Training has been an intense experience so far. We have four sessions a day that consist of language training, cross-culture information, medical training and information, and technological training. Technological training deals gives us information on how we are supposed to teach in our respective schools in September. We have to follow the Cameroonian francophone school system, syllabus, and requirements very closely. I will be teaching in the francophone part of the country, and their school system closely resembles the French school system (in the Anglophone part of the country, they closely the British system). Students have to take three exams over the course of lycée (high school) which is seven years for Cameroonians. I am responsible for teaching them all of the English grammar, vocabulary, writing, reading comprehension, etc. they will be tested on during these exams. So to practice, IÕve been honing my English grammar skills (and in many cases re-teaching myself!), creating lesson plans, and practice teaching classes to other volunteers (it's been interesting to teach English grammar to native speakers). Next week, on July 6th, the model school that the Peace Corps has set up, will begin in out training town in Bafia. It will last for about six weeks, and children and adults from the surrounding area can come take classes in English, Science, Computers, or Business. It should be great practice for us, I can't wait!
But before that starts, I will be going on a Site Visit. This means that I will go to my post, where I will be living for the next two years, where I will hopefully get to see my village and what's available there, make some initial contacts in the community, and visit my school to find out if they computers, what textbooks they use, if the have lesson plans in place already, if there is a head of the English department, what other resources they have, etc. I will be posted in the Extreme North region of Cameroon. This is obviously the northernmost region of the country, which juts in between Chad and Nigeria. My village is called Hina (it is very small, I canÕt even find it on the map!). It is very close to the Nigerian border, and I think it's less than two hours from Mokolo, which is a slightly bigger village that is the department capital. I think I will be about 3 hours from Maroua (the regional capital) depending on roads. The Extreme North is officially francophone, so I should be able to speak French at school and with people of the community, but many of the people who live there speak Fulfuldé or another tribal language. So before leaving for post, I'll start learning Fulfuldé. It is a common language spoken in many Western African countries, and is actually considered a critical needs language by the State Department (i.e., definitely a good skill to have!). It is hotter and drier in the North than the South, but from all accounts from other volunteers who live up there, it is breathtakingly beautiful. I should know more next week, after the three day journey it takes to get there from Yaoundé (the capital) by overnight train and multiple bush taxis. So more to come on that!
In other news, life in Bafia is great! I'm still loving my host family, and I hang out with my 19 year old host brother, Ariel (yes, like The Little Mermaid!!) a lot. He's a surrogate little brother, and I'm shameless using him as a substitute for my real one who I miss so much I needed to seek out a Cameroonian counterpart to fill that role in my life. There are tons of bananas and avocados and pineapples and this fruit they call prunes but is NOT a prune and tastes like nothing I've ever eaten before (but they're super tasty!). The rains finally started coming, but they still only last for about an hour, tops, at random parts of the day. But the thunderstorms are amazing! The thunder and lightning happen at the same time, the storms are so close! It absolutely torrentially downpours, and then as quickly as they came, the rains stop, and the sun comes out and dries everything out. Also, I think I may start keeping a tally of the marriage proposals I receive. At this point, I'd say it has to be around the 35-40 mark. Apparently, many Cameroonians believe that America is the definition of the land of milk and honey, and marriage to an American girl is the easiest way to gain entry to such a haven. But they hilarious part is, while many of these proposals are from men of all ages, I also get them from older women asking me to marry their sons, children asking me to marry their older brother/cousin/uncle, fathers asking me to marry their sons, teenage girls asking me to marry their male friends/brothers/cousins, etc. It's rather comical, and I've tried explaining to many Cameroonians that America has its problems as well, and that the majority of Americans are not living the idealized American Dream. Maybe it's my French, but they simply aren't buying it!
So I've got to get this posted before the electricity cuts out again, so let me just say that I love and miss and am thinking of everybody. Hope everyone is doing fantastically at home and more news/updates to come asap!

Finally!

Bonjour Tout le Monde!
Alright, so I must first apologize for the delay in this blog post. I have now been in Cameroon for nine whole days! It those nine days have felt like AT LEAST four months! Turns out internet access is slightly difficult to come by on this continent… surprise! But I have finally located a “cyber café,” as they are called, and if the electricity will stay on, I will try my best to update on the many, many happenings since I’ve been in country.
So my last post was when we were still in Yaoundé. That is the capital of Cameroon, and it is the city that I, and the 42 other volunteers that are in my training class, flew into. We spent a few days there doing some initial orientations, including initial language proficiency tests, medical sessions (completely with immunizations, my favorite!), food and water preparation training, etc. We also took care of a ton of paperwork, completed some immigration processing, bought cell phones and regulators, and other miscellaneous mundane errands. But we did some super fun stuff too, like the tribal dance festival, and we had a super fancy welcome dinner at the Country Director’s house where we met all of the Peace Corps staff.
After being in Yaoundé for four days, we drove to Bafia, which is still in the center of the country, only about two hours from Yaoundé. It’s a much smaller town than Yaoundé, but its not a village. There are probably about 50-60 thousand people living in and around Bafia. So I’m living with a host family, and they are super great! My father, Guy, is in agriculture (we have tons of fruit trees in our yard, including palm trees, mango trees, and guava trees!). My mother, Beatrice, is a primary school teacher, but school is finished for the summer now. The have a daughter, Vanessa, who goes to university in Yaoundé, a son Ariel who is 19, Fabiola who is 14, Brando (or Bato for short) who is 12, and Charles-Anette who is 5. So the house is always crazy and loud and exciting! The mother is actually from the Anglophone part of Cameroon, but she speaks French to me (I need the practice!). My host parents are incredibly intelligent, insightful, and opinionated people. They love to have conversations with me about politics and globalization and imperialism and Africa’s role on the international stage. They are well aware of how the majority of the rest of the world views their continent, and the stereotypes that surround it. They, and the rest of the town of Bafia, are so grateful that we are here, they can’t stop thanking us! As they explained to me, that are just happy that we are here to see how they live and experience their culture and realize that while it is true that Africa has a reputation for corruption and disease and poverty, there are people here that work hard to make a living and succeed at doing so. They have electricity, and a television, and a computer! All of which surprised me. As for food, to anyone who is wondering, I have not eaten meat yet! They eat a lot, a lot, a lot of fish. Also a lot of rice, plantains, potatoes, and manioc (I don’t know what the English word for this is, but they eat every part of this plant, the stem, the leaves, the root). Yes, there’s a theme, and its heavy on the carbs. One night we had spaghetti AND rice with tomato sauce!
Besides hanging out with my host family, all of our time is consumed by an intense training program. I’m in a French class with only two other volunteers, and its really nice to work in that small of groups. We’ve been having technical sessions on what exactly we will be teaching (the Cameroonian schools have strict lesson plans that we must stick to). We will be starting a model school in Bafia on the 1st of July, where we’ll offer summer school classes to kids aged 10 and up in the mornings, and classes to adults in the afternoons for subjects like English, business, and computers. I’m pretty psyched about it! I think it will be a great way for us to practice and get feedback before we leave for our post (the place we will be assigned to for the two years of service) while simultaneously helping out the community a bit.
I get quite a bit of attention when I walk around Bafia, and so do all the volunteers. My favorite is they like to call out “La Blanche, La Blanche!” which literally means “the white female.” And apparently, it is every Cameroonian’s dream (especially the youth) to go to the United States. So marriage proposals from young Cameroonian men, hopeful that they’ll find an American sugar mama who will provide them with a green card and the American Dream, are quite prevalent!
The World Cup is all anyone can talk about since got here, and I must say, it is pretty exciting! Africans in general are so proud to have a World Cup hosted on their continent, and the Cameroonians are simply ecstatic for their team to be in it! Unfortunately, they did loose today to Japan. It was a heartbreaker, they had so many chances to score they just barely missed. Definitely some heavy hearts here in Bafia (the town pretty much shut down to watch the match!).
So there are a few updates from Cameroon, I’ll try to post more frequently with more stories (there are too many!) now that I’ve found an internet source! Loving and missing everyone dearly…

Finally!

Bonjour Tout le Monde!
Alright, so I must first apologize for the delay in this blog post. I have now been in Cameroon for nine whole days! It those nine days have felt like AT LEAST four months! Turns out internet access is slightly difficult to come by on this continent… surprise! But I have finally located a “cyber café,” as they are called, and if the electricity will stay on, I will try my best to update on the many, many happenings since I’ve been in country.
So my last post was when we were still in Yaoundé. That is the capital of Cameroon, and it is the city that I, and the 42 other volunteers that are in my training class, flew into. We spent a few days there doing some initial orientations, including initial language proficiency tests, medical sessions (completely with immunizations, my favorite!), food and water preparation training, etc. We also took care of a ton of paperwork, completed some immigration processing, bought cell phones and regulators, and other miscellaneous mundane errands. But we did some super fun stuff too, like the tribal dance festival, and we had a super fancy welcome dinner at the Country Director’s house where we met all of the Peace Corps staff.
After being in Yaoundé for four days, we drove to Bafia, which is still in the center of the country, only about two hours from Yaoundé. It’s a much smaller town than Yaoundé, but its not a village. There are probably about 50-60 thousand people living in and around Bafia. So I’m living with a host family, and they are super great! My father, Guy, is in agriculture (we have tons of fruit trees in our yard, including palm trees, mango trees, and guava trees!). My mother, Beatrice, is a primary school teacher, but school is finished for the summer now. The have a daughter, Vanessa, who goes to university in Yaoundé, a son Ariel who is 19, Fabiola who is 14, Brando (or Bato for short) who is 12, and Charles-Anette who is 5. So the house is always crazy and loud and exciting! The mother is actually from the Anglophone part of Cameroon, but she speaks French to me (I need the practice!). My host parents are incredibly intelligent, insightful, and opinionated people. They love to have conversations with me about politics and globalization and imperialism and Africa’s role on the international stage. They are well aware of how the majority of the rest of the world views their continent, and the stereotypes that surround it. They, and the rest of the town of Bafia, are so grateful that we are here, they can’t stop thanking us! As they explained to me, that are just happy that we are here to see how they live and experience their culture and realize that while it is true that Africa has a reputation for corruption and disease and poverty, there are people here that work hard to make a living and succeed at doing so. They have electricity, and a television, and a computer! All of which surprised me. As for food, to anyone who is wondering, I have not eaten meat yet! They eat a lot, a lot, a lot of fish. Also a lot of rice, plantains, potatoes, and manioc (I don’t know what the English word for this is, but they eat every part of this plant, the stem, the leaves, the root). Yes, there’s a theme, and its heavy on the carbs. One night we had spaghetti AND rice with tomato sauce!
Besides hanging out with my host family, all of our time is consumed by an intense training program. I’m in a French class with only two other volunteers, and its really nice to work in that small of groups. We’ve been having technical sessions on what exactly we will be teaching (the Cameroonian schools have strict lesson plans that we must stick to). We will be starting a model school in Bafia on the 1st of July, where we’ll offer summer school classes to kids aged 10 and up in the mornings, and classes to adults in the afternoons for subjects like English, business, and computers. I’m pretty psyched about it! I think it will be a great way for us to practice and get feedback before we leave for our post (the place we will be assigned to for the two years of service) while simultaneously helping out the community a bit.
I get quite a bit of attention when I walk around Bafia, and so do all the volunteers. My favorite is they like to call out “La Blanche, La Blanche!” which literally means “the white female.” And apparently, it is every Cameroonian’s dream (especially the youth) to go to the United States. So marriage proposals from young Cameroonian men, hopeful that they’ll find an American sugar mama who will provide them with a green card and the American Dream, are quite prevalent!
The World Cup is all anyone can talk about since got here, and I must say, it is pretty exciting! Africans in general are so proud to have a World Cup hosted on their continent, and the Cameroonians are simply ecstatic for their team to be in it! Unfortunately, they did loose today to Japan. It was a heartbreaker, they had so many chances to score they just barely missed. Definitely some heavy hearts here in Bafia (the town pretty much shut down to watch the match!).
So there are a few updates from Cameroon, I’ll try to post more frequently with more stories (there are too many!) now that I’ve found an internet source! Loving and missing everyone dearly…