J’arrive
15 Octobre 2008 (Continued)
Today was simply fabulous, a wonderful mid-week reawakening that I desperately needed. Amidst all the on-going projects and sheer magnitude of having to live here everyday, it’s difficult not to get worn down… so today really helped.
So, a girl who was sick with me in the hospital with Malaria is going home tomorrow – to real life – because she is so sick. Apparently, the hospital did not treat her very well, and she is afraid of relapse, and apparently they put the IV in wrong giving her a fluid bubble. We all have very mixed feelings about this, but the most promising being the fact that most of us said that we wouldn’t be happy to go home right now… it’s really becoming that ordinary.
Today was a red-letter eating day since I had ICE CREAM, PEANUT BUTTER, and PASTA SALAD for the first time since being in Cameroon. First of all, probably most importantly, the ice cream. We went to a Boulangerie for lunch today after our visit to an NGO, and I got one little tiny scoop of tiramisu glace in a tiny little cornet for 500 CFA ($1). It was delicious, and one of the coldest things I have had in Cameroon since the refrigeration is generally less than frigid. This ice cream was not only gloriously creamy like tiramisu, it also had a thick layer of actual coco on top… and I was the first person to have ordered from the new basin! Oh yeah… Then, Miju (the girl going home) received a very beat up package from her American parents, and in it were two very large containers of peanut butter… so we spooned about half a jar of that into our mouths. MAJOR PLUS: Her parents sent her things like shampoo, deodorant, and BODYWASH, but since she’s going home she doesn’t need them… meaning I got bodywash! And then, we treated ourselves to Espresso Bar for dinner, and I got a wonderful pasta salad and bread for a million bajillion dollars…
Our group also visited les Brasseries du Cameroun (The Cameroonian Brewing Company) today, which was incredible. It was exactly like being on an episode of “Unwrapped” because we got to see inside the making and bottling of Coca Cola, Pamplemousse, Fanta, Amstel, Heineken, Pelforth, Beaufort, and Sprite. It was so cool, we had to wear hardhats and everything. And if that wasn’t enough, of course we had a sampling!
This being stuck at home with my brother and cousin is not all it’s cracked up to be… Arnaud is attached to the Nintendo, so he doesn’t talk much, and I sense some sexual tension between me and 19 year-old cousin Florein, a sort of a toss up over control of the house since we’re nearly the same age (2 weeks until his 20th birthday), and he’s always making some awkward joke for me to laugh at. He’s very westernized, and dresses very chicly, is very fit, and has this incredible multi-faceted internet cell phone, which I deemed must be from out of the country.
Arnaud is super cute though because since he has beaten Narnia, he watches the “Sonic the Hedgehog” video in English… and he listens to the title song over and over and over and over again, and runs around the room mimicking all the moves of Sonic. And here we go… I’m hearing it again. Especially today because they cut the electricity, so the battery of the Nintendo is particularly useful since the television doesn’t work. On the other hand of the cuteness, Arnaud needs major work on his manners and feels entitled to most things without asking or being polite. We having daily lessons on that one.
I have to remark on how I only wash my hands with soap and water about once a week (not counting showers) since that is how often the water is cut in Cameroon.
I love watching American cartoons in French… it usually highlights my morning along with my breakfast of bread and chocolate to watch Dora the Explorer (where the usual parts in Spanish are now in English) and my absolute favorite has to be Bob L’Eponge – even the theme song has been changed into French.
When I return to Yaoundé after being in Ngaoundere, my aunt (who is really like my age or in her late 20s) is taking me to a pool because she wants me to teach her how to swim! Can you even begin to imagine my excitement? However… this could go both ways since I did see a public pool or should I say typhoid cesspool next to the zoo, and I never would have gotten into that water.
18 Octobre 2008
KRIBI!!!!!!!!! I have so much to say concerning the beaches of Kribi, but have little recollection of where to start. We left for Kribi Friday morning, which is located about 4 hours west of Yaoundé on the coast of Cameroon. It’s a tourism spot because of the BEAUTIFUL white sand beaches and warm Atlantic water, but also the second largest port of exports and oil in Cameroon. Upon arriving, we checked into a swanky little beachfront bungalow, and nearly sprinted into the ocean. It was almost like being away from Africa since even though each hotel room still sported a cute little mosquito net, and there were plenty of roaches in sight, the shady palm trees, beachfront cabana, and individual air conditioning units! made me feel as though I was on my honeymoon.
Another amazing discovery was the fact that Kribi, obviously a fishing town, has absolutely killer fish and SHRIMP! It is literally one of the only places in Cameroon you can find affordable shrimp everywhere… and we did. Two nights in a row we had piles of shrimp, and not hands-off shrimp like in America. Platters with foot-deep mountains of whole bodies, heads, and legs, of crisp, red shrimp. We went at it, cracking first the heads off, and then pulling the tiny littlest piece of succulent meat out of the tail, and moving onto the next one. When we had finished, it looked like a massacre of the little village of Shrimptown.
Aside from swimming in the absolutely glorious heated waters of the coast of Africa, we actually came to Kribi for two educational reasons: one being that the Pygmies reside here, and the other being the fact that the start of Exxon’s pipeline to Chad begins here. And since we’re studying Development & Social Change, it was essential to see both. First, we went to see the Pygmies, who are recognized as the most indigenous people in the Congo Basin and attempt to maintain a lifestyle as close to nature as possible. We took another dilapidated bus into the le brousse (literally the bush), to find the Pygmies, aka the Baka, in their natural habitat. We arrived and found them building a new establishment in their camp. They are on average 1m 64cm tall, and live in camps ranging from about 20-45 people. There is a main chief, but the tribe is still split up into smaller families. When we arrived the children did a traditional dance while the mothers and grandmothers played a long hollowed out bamboo pole like a drum. The little kids had these crazy leaf costumes, with a head dress of long leaves covering their faces. They were probably between 5 and 10 years-old, and they would peek through the grass headdress to make sure they were in step with the other dancing children. It was adorable, and their little dance was so precious as they shook their leaves. Basically, the political history of the Pygmies revolves around the fact that because of their height and primitive lifestyle, the Bantu tribe has enslaved them, and they are at the mercy of the Bantu leaders. Hence, a situation while we were there when a Bantu tribesman came to check up on the Pygmies and was appalled to see that we had come to visit them, but not the Bantus, when they clearly had “so much more to offer.” It’s a very sad situation, and the Pygmies are extremely impoverished and have an average life expectancy of about 23 years since they only believe in traditional medicine, and a large percentage die during childbirth, from AIDS, or malaria. In spite of this though, as if I should be surprised, they are a very joyful group of people, and were happily cooking their usual staple of porcupine meat and grass cutter (giant African rats) for dinner. It really destroys me how truly spoiled we are.
Before leaving for Kribi, many of our host families warned us, “Don’t swim! It is too dangerous.” And most of us responded that we were actually very good swimmers in the United States, and had lots of experience swimming in the ocean… they didn’t seem completely satisfied, but let it go. When we arrived, however, Christiane, was even very hesitant to allow us to swim, so we asked why. And OF COURSE there is another reason than just a strong undertow. Apparently, Africans have justified the disappearance of people into the ocean with the reason of sorcery, particularly sirens (aka Mer-people) who drag people into the sea to eat. And, not only that, but in the months closest to Christmas, sirens are especially hungry because they are trying to satisfy their Christmastime cravings. It’s very difficult not to laugh when they dead-seriously tell us these stories as rationale for why they won’t do things, but we swam anyway, a lot, and I never even got to see a mermaid.
There are so many ghost crabs in Kribi – but unfortunately no tongs or buckets to catch them with. And there are these awesome lizards, which are navy blue, bright orange, and green, and they are everywhere!
Not that this ruined my weekend in any way, but I totally wiped out on the wet planks of the beach deck and have a beautiful purple bruise on my butt to account for it.
Much like movies shot of beautiful beaches, coconuts actually do fall from trees fairly often and make a huge cracking noises on the deck…which makes me fear for my skull.
I’ve started drumming lessons, and I love them. Our instructor also makes hand-carved jembes, and I’ve very tempted to buy one to bring back… especially if I know how to play it, and it’s personalized. However, it might be difficult to get it over the Atlantic, and it costs about $120 (60000 CFA)… which I guess is really nothing for a hand-crafted instrument.
19 Octobre 2008
My family welcomed me back with their usual warmness (minus Maman who is still in her hometown until WEDNESDAY!), and said that I had become more beautiful because of my tanned skin from the sun (Tu es très bronze, Oh-lie!).
AND – the winner of all events for the day had the be the fact that a package arrived from my GENEROUS family in the U.S. for my family here, which included 4 new Nintendo DS games, and I nearly thought I was going to have to resuscitate Arnaud from over-excitement hyperventilation. He doesn’t know which one to play at any given moment, and even though they are in English, he learns the rules of the game in like 2 minutes, if that. It’s absolutely unbelievable. Mom wrote a note in English, which he tried to read aloud, and then I translated it for him. Il a dit, “Merci! Merci beaucoup! Je suis très content! Votre mère est très gentille!” Basically, thank you from the bottom my heart to whoever contributed to this gift because I really think you made Arnaud’s life for at least until he beats these games… J
20 Octobre 2008
I believe that sometimes we forget that we are only human, and even with a skyscraper of ambitions, the luck we were born with, and insurmountable amounts of courage, we are capable failing and are so easily humbled by the events around us. There is a well-known African proverb that says, “You don’t have to be tall to see the moon.” I couldn’t find a better way to state my findings here. Everyone, no matter how esteemed, how impoverished, how American, or how African, ever out-does another on the level of simply being a human being. I can only give myself things to do that stereotypically amount to making me more than the average person, but I will always just be a surviving, living, breathing human. And I think it’s more important that my virtues amount to being an irreplaceable daughter, sister, mother, girlfriend, wife, mentor, and friend rather than a CEO, ambassador, or world leader. Of the latter, I only have to prove to myself that I am capable; of the former, I have everything to lose.
It’s amazing to me how ingenious Cameroonians are. For instance, when I came home from school yesterday, the entire stereo was destroyed on the coffee table. Completely taken apart, there were nuts and bolts everywhere. It looked like a pile of wreckage, but after I had been in my room for about an hour to unpack, I came out to find the entire stereo in one piece being played like new. I still, to this moment, have no idea how that was accomplished.
On our way home from the market today, it was monsooning, and we needed to take a taxi to avoid being in the torrential downpour, so we were hailing taxis, and see a woman get out of a car, so we wave him down, and tell him where we were headed. Turns out… he’s not even a taxi driver, just a guy in his car who takes us all the way back to school. Such an odd experience, but this was completely natural… just consider for a moment getting into a stranger’s car in America to go somewhere. Basically, instigated hitchhiking.
Nora and I were spending some time in a Rotesserie this afternoon, and the Cameroonian waiters working there ordered us a few drinks, which was very kind of them. However, they had our female waitress implement this while they continued to stand in the corner. Plus, then she came to our table to take our telephone number to give them, and then they called us REPEATEDLY as we were sitting there… super awkward. And, when we left and said thank you for the drinks, they shyly acknowledged our thanks, and continued to call us collectively about 50 times after we left the restaurant.
Things are really heating up in La Belle-Mere, Maria found a letter containing the name of Patricia’s murderer, and Esteban is not Angel’s real father… I can’t believe I’m going to miss it for 2 and a half weeks…
I just saw a commercial for bleach, and in one clip the mother was cleaning the shower and bathroom with it, and then in the next clip she was washing the salad with it. I’m only slightly confused… but not entirely. I mean, it’s completely natural to me to want to wash salad with bleach.
22 Octobre 2008
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to find time to write with the mountains of work and contacts I have to physically visit everyday. Plus the train leaves for Ngaoundere at 4:30 p.m. today, and without being able to return to Yaoundé until ISP month, I must have all of my project solidified. However, this doesn’t mean that I am without plenty of time to experience Cameroon, and this week has been hectic.
For one thing, I’ve decided that I’m actually very scared to come home. Even after living in Africa for only 2 months, I have grown so accustomed to the way things are that I almost cannot remember how I once acted in America. I certainly don’t think my personality has changed, aside from maybe having a much broader outlook, but I personally can’t remember how to act in America, and I’m getting very nervous to go back, seeing as how I’m past half way there. I more than delighted to be able to see everyone that I’ve been missing so much, but as for functioning in society for a while… I just have no idea…
For some unknown reason to me I’ve just been sleeping in my daily clothes for about the past week. I don’t even bother changing in pajamas anymore. I guess I’m supposing that I just have to wake up and go in a few hours anyway – and putting on jammies isn’t any cooler or cleaner in the sweltering heat.
When my father introduced me to my 12 year-old female cousin last night, he denoted her age by pointing to her chest and saying that she was “growing.” Which I found to be very odd and slightly uncomfortable.
Laura and Nora have begun running in the morning with the Marines who guard the Embassy and are trying to get us invited to their Thanksgiving dinner because we know they have one, and it’s probably going to be good…
I met with my advisor at the Embassy yesterday, and my project is going to be perfect! It will be beyond demanding because my advisor is a staunch academic and currently in the process of writing his own doctorate thesis, so he’s familiar with the process. He has excellent ideas and invaluable contacts since his boss is the ambassador herself. He said he was going to try to maneuver a meeting for me with her. I don’t know if I will have unlimited daily access to the Embassy yet – aka a microchip badge – but I’ll at least be there a fair amount for interviews and research. I just feel relieved to have this solidified before leaving this afternoon!
So in accordance with the title of this post, I really have become an artist’s muse. On one of our first days in Cameroon, we passed an artist who was working on some very vibrantly beautiful oil paintings on the top of a hill. He works out of a little hut and displays his art on a large wooden grid, which he changes often. Of course, I absolutely love art, so I always kept in mind visiting him afterwards. So, true to myself, I went back to the hill this week to introduce myself and gather a little insight on this artist. Turns out he is 25, a true Bob Marley loving, weed smoking, peace bringing Rastafarian named Mekouti. Nearly everything he says is a philosophical saying about the Earth, God, or his family, and he was extremely interesting to just listen to for a while – he certainly conveyed the stereotypical artist vibe. I began visiting him everyday to see what new works he had started on, since he took the time to explain the reasoning behind each one of his new paintings to me. After a few days, he decided to take me to his house. So I venture home with him and find him to live in this adorable, little, immaculately clean, two-room house/studio/gallery. His bed is simply a blanket on the floor, and his sustainability is reliant on the mini-fridge full of cheese and wine that he has. However, his walls are consumed by art… absolutely breath-taking hand-painted oil canvases of everything you can dream of. Of course, he took the time to explain every minute detail of each painting to me, of which I had no problem listening. However, the last day that I visited, he had 3 brand-new paintings – all with representations of ME. And it only gets worse from here… TO BE CONTINUED…
Food Joys: We’re actually finding great snacks to eat in Cameroon! Things that I actually might miss in the United States. First off… we found a street vendor with a soft-serve ice cream machine, and he sells little cones for 20 cents each (100 CFA). We think it’s supposed to be twist ice cream, but it actually tastes like banana and coconut mixed together. Either way, it’s FREAKING delicious, and we “double fist” it – buy one cone to hold in each hand – everyday. Also, right next to the man with the ice cream is a man who sells little bags of kettle corn for the same price… it’s the perfect breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Also, we have new lunch location. A little tiny outdoor “restaurant” with 2 tables and little woman with a frying pan who makes incredible omelettes, plantains, and spicy beans, plus it’s very filling but also very cheap… finally, something substantial to eat. Although, I do only really crave Cameroonian foods now because I can’t remember the tastes of American food anymore.
23 Octobre 2008
We arrived in Ngaoundere today after a long, stop & go, tight little train ride. However, we did have a sleeping chamber in first class, and sometimes it felt a little like we were on the Hogwarts train as we scooted along past deserts and straw-hatched villages, swayed over tiny wooden bridges, and always kept the potential to derail –like 4 days earlier when the train was derailed for 3 days. Annoyingly, someone was required to stay up at all times during the night because of the notorious acts of bandits who come through the windows and steal your luggage. Luckily, that didn’t happen to any of us, but it certainly made for a less than restful night sleep. The train station was also unbelievable with hundreds of people pushing through the iron gates trying to get onto the train… another wonderfully hectic life-moment in Cameroon.
Getting into Ngaoundere isn’t very different from Dschang, but it is certainly much slower paced, and a large percentage is Muslim… meaning everything stops frequently for prayer. Plus, Ngaoundere is a dairy town and actually believes in some consistent form of refrigeration… so we were able to head into town for a dip at “Le Bar Laitier.” A milk bar specializing in serving milk products. We ordered yaourt, which they served to us on a little saucer with a delicate little silver spoon. It was delicious. We did head to another bar, “La Plazza,” after that though (because we had 7 hours to kill in town) , and ordered pina coladas, which I’m going to warn you not to do in Cameroon – because a pina colada is, of course, not a pina colada as we would think of it, but instead, one shot of pina colada flavored liqueur in a brandy glass with two ice cubes. Now, I don’t know about you, but with a shot of anything, I don’t need the ice in it because it’s not going to take me that long to drink it, but the liqueur was actually surprising delicious and had I had about 4 more would have been perfect – either that or pouring it over blended ice.
(PART II TO COME)
