July 1-2

Today Laura, the trainee from Germany is really sick and couldn’t come to work. I’ve been staying with Eshwa in her apartment. Here in Cameroon an apartment consists of one room with a low full-size bed and colorful walls. At Mary’s (where Laura and Aya, the Japanese intern stay) there are very nice large tiles that Mary keeps immaculate despite the mud we all track in. At Eshwa’s there are various linoleum scraps that cover her floor. Running water is a luxury that Cameroonian, even relatively privileged students, can’t afford 24/7. Every time I’ve tried to use the tap for flushing, showering, or washing my hands at Mary’s “the water has been turned off”. I’m not sure if it is ever on. But at Eshwa’s (who I have deduced may be a little more wealthy) I have been able to flush the toilet once. That’s always a relief, because its really weird to just leave whatever you left in the bowl just hanging out until the next time the water is turned on. I have come up with maneuvers to escape from the bathroom without being seen. Last night Eshwa had her little sister over (here it is more like her “kid sista”) and Yvonne spent the night. I am really surprised that I slept so well with three in a full size bed. I am grateful that I sleep like a dead person.

I’m sort of sad that I won’t be staying with Eshwa anymore because she made me breakfast and we had good talks every night. We seriously talked until 1 am last night which is a HUGE deal considering Cameroonians normally go to sleep around 10pm. We had a really long talk about he slave trade and I found it very interesting that when history is taught in Cameroonian primary schools, both the negatives and positives of slave trade are covered, whereas in the US there can be no positive spin on the slave trade. I am still really having a hard time with their 50:50 breakdown of what was good about the slave trade and what was bad. Eshwa cited roads, European goods and infrastructure including buildings they still use today, commerce with the rest of the world, and advancements of all sorts. I asked her if they spent much time going over the way chiefs sold their own strong men to the slave traders, and she said yes, and that it really hindered the advancement of African society. It’s interesting to me that there is less sympathy towards African Americans from Africans than I expected. I feel that African Americans really grasp for heritage and “brotherhood” in Africans, but Africans are fairly nonplussed.

I went to the market with Mary so she could get food for dinner (which she did demonstration style so Aya, Laura, Asher, and I could fend for ourselves when al the AIESECers are gone for holiday (July 11 ). It was a really eye-opening experience. We got out of the cab (which 95% of people use here to get around, seeing as how no one can afford to own cars) and were greeted by a field of little shanty-stands. People selling everything from Matchbox cars to fish to traditional African fabric to mothballs were there advertising and selling their wares. A really cute little boy came up to me and waned to sell me these things that looked like Mentos from the heap of wrapped Mentos piled on a plate, balanced on his head. I wanted to give him money so I asked Mary if it was a good idea to get them. She really enthusiastically encouraged me (and positive enthusiasm from Mary is a big deal because she’s kind of too cool for school) and so I bout one bundle. She told me they’d make my clothes smell really good. When I got home I unwrapped them and realized they were mothballs, and was subsequently pressured a bit by Mary to put them in my suitcase. I’m not sure if she’s trying to prank me but I bet she actually likes the smell of mothballs. Needless to say I stink right now and have been searching in my suitcase (which is harder than it sounds because the lights inside are every dim and I have a hard time seeing anything) to fin that one friggen mothball.

I’ve been doing a lot of bonding with the girls from the West because they are all (except Aya) getting homesick. I really want to hang out with the Cameroonians more though. We go to bars and have drinks (the beer is pretty weak so I have been under control) and all the men there stare because here women don’t drink very often, we glow in the dark, and Asher and Laura have decided to smoke publicly. Here’s why I think that’s a terrible idea: Western ideals are really respected here, and there’s a good chance that women ma follow suit- I would not want to cause an epidemic of smokers in Cameroon. Even worse, we could be judged, which is probably more likely.

I have surprisingly not gotten sick yet, and thoroughly enjoying the food. Mom- be ready to be impressed- it’s super spicy and I’ve been clearing my plate at every meal. It’s so hot that I need to have tissues nearby because my nose starts to run. One of the dishes I’ve had twice now is Ndole: a really spicy mashed up biter weed with salty gritty past holding all together. It’s actually WAY better than the description. Bill, the boss at my NGO takes all his staff and volunteers out to lunch and describes each option before we order, and he somehow manages to make them sound really delicious without lying. Sorry that I don’t have that down yet. I LOVE plantains the most. They just boil them and peel them and you eat them with forks and they are delicious. Another thing is Cassava prepared in all different ways. There’s one way in which its beaten and rolled into a loaf and you pinch off bits and eat this gluey-textured (honestly, gluey tasting) in addition to spicy soup or a dip of sorts. The best was when Bill artfully described the soup we had yesterday (the stuff we suspect made Laura sick) and it arrived. We all looked at it and then politely tried not to look at each other because it was basically a fish in a bowl with some spicy sloppy broth that was probably mostly fish inards. Laura was too polite for her own good and ate it all. I may have done the same if it hadn’t been unbearably spicy for me. The fish are all sevred here with scales still on, bones and eyeballs still in. When grilled they are really good though, probably second only to plantains. I hope I haven’t been to critical in my descriptions because overall I love the food here and am a bit worried that American food will be too safe and bland for me when I get home.

I am moving into the apartment today after work. Yes, right now I am at work. Bill is out picking something up and Aya and I really don’t know what to do or how to do any work in general without Internet access, which will hopefully be set up in a month at the latest. We do work though, I promise. Every day we walk to the campus IT centre and pay a mere 200Francs ($1 = 455 Francs) for an hour of wireless access. I have been searching for foundations or subsets of big US companies that have grant initiatives. So far the odds are good that Bill’s NGO, Elyon Rock Foundation, will get some money via my efforts. I’m not sure how much, but I’m pretty certain that grant writing may be the best skill I can offer.

The NGO is doing a lot of really broad things. I am looking at the chalk board which we used for a briefing session just a few hours ago. Elyon Rock organizes and carries out a youth initiative called Kidz and Teenz which is sort of like DARE but instead of Drug Abuse Resistance Education focuses on getting kids inspired about their future careers, as well as educating them on the dangers and modes of prevention of HIV/AIDS/STIs etc. The Foundation also has a holiday workshop (like a day-camp thing) with talent contests, debate contests, Creative Talent workshops etc. The first big successful effort of the NGO was “Break In”, a film that was featured on the Africa Magic network that runs throughout the continent. Apparently this and other efforts in short film and T.V. series such as “Survival” and “Risky” are meant to entertain and address social ills at the same time.

The craziest thing about Cameroon is how welcoming the people are. I think that if I had travelled to any village within the US and just plopped myself down that way I did here, that I would be really homesick by now. There’s a very communal mentality and I’ve heard it expressed by at least 5 people by now: one person’s problem is everyone’s problem. Even my problem is their problem. It’s amazing. I’ve been offered cooking lessons and trips to the beach and movie/girls’ nights and I think Mary, an AIESECer is going to cornrow my hair…