"Nothing to do, nowhere to be / A simple little kind of free / Nothing to do, no one but me / And that's all I need"

In July, I’ll be helping to teach a quick First Aid medical session to the new Peace Corps Trainees.  In order to be “qualified” to do so, I had to go to Yaounde in April to learn the Peace Corps methodology of training (i.e. creating formal objectives that address the appropriate taxonomies of learning).  Yes, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds, but it was great to visit the country capital and be able to eat pizza and have cold mango/pineapple smoothies.  It goes without saying: the urban life is considerably more expensive than life in village, so I kept finding myself having those moments of “You want me to pay HOW MUCH?”  It was reminiscent of feeling the dichotomy between rural Ohio and New York or Boston.  I look forward to trying to explore the city a bit more in the future, but in the meantime, I don’t mind being considered “villageois.” 

I decided while I had the opportunity, I would visit one of the top high schools in the country (take from it what you will about Cameroon’s educational system, but it’s an American school that uses a traditionally US curriculum).  I used this chance to talk a bit about my beloved alma mater, Kenyon College, specifically – but in general I gave information about the application process and the personal essay.  It was nice to talk about higher education again!   

As I returned to my post, we passed by Bafia, the town where my 11 weeks of training had been.  The van only stopped for 1 minute – no time to say Hellos, but long enough to pick up a dozen mangoes for 200CFA (~$0.40)!  My rush to return to Bapa was so I could celebrate National (Unification) Day in my region.  May 20^th marked the 50^th anniversary of the event, so it was a big deal in country.  The events in my district were happening in neighboring Bangou, so I walked 1.5 hours to observe the festivities.  Like most Cameroon holidays, the major attraction was the march (défilé). 

I don't even remember which school these students were from - but I loved their bright purple uniforms!

I’ll be brutally honest, I wasn’t much for parades in the States, and I can’t say that Cameroonian marches are any more interesting.  In fact, because there are no floats, vehicles (or even mimes à la the Gambier 4^th of July parade)…it’s really just droves of kids walking in formation.  After it was over, I found I had far too many people approaching me with requests to buy them drinks, so I decided to walk the hour and a half back to village.  Honestly, it was a bit like having my own personal parade as everyone seemed to stop and watch.  Oh, and a few occasionally made the ridiculous comment – “Regarde…la blanche marche à pied (Look – the white is walking!)”  Gotta’ love when people point out the obvious…

I’ve now been to a few tofu demonstrations.  It’s great when it goes well and the tofu turns out firm and tasty (aided by adding the perfect blend of spices right before it is squeezed out for the final time).  The women are excited by its potential as a meal and/or a source of income.  Because tofu is a foreign concept though, we call it soybean meat (viande de soja) since it eventually has a similar taste and texture.  This makes it more likely that people will at least try it.

We PCVs in the West had a regional get-together at the end of May.  The volunteer who hosted it has a pretty swanky concession and, as always, when PCVs get together, the eating is good.  It was like a summer party back home, complete with bean burgers, garlic bread (using the fantastically yummy bagel-like bread that is specially made in that area), pasta salad, and a fruit tart for dessert.  Thanks to someone’s care package, we also had the materials for a water balloon fight.  The evening concluded with outdoor blanket forts and stargazing.    

“Work” (and I use the quotes intentionally because I never feel like I’m doing enough to qualify this as a job) continues to trudge along.  I’ve spent some time attending the weekly meetings in my quartier.  Really though, this is just 25 women who come together to pay dues (cotise) – each according to their ability that week.   There was yet another minor cholera outbreak in the West.  Thankfully this time it has avoided the villages closest to me, but I gave a presentation on the disease (maladie) nonetheless.  Unfortunately, it seemed that no one was really interested in what I had to say– so I’ll just have to continue to persist. 

I’ve also come up with an extensive survey (10 very full pages) for the employees of the Health Center and members of the Health Committee.  It covers everything from general health questions to issues of water availability, hygiene, sanitation, family planning, HIV/AIDS, etc.  My fingers are crossed that when they are turned in, we’ll be able to work together to plan some future projects.

I’ll leave you with the latest sharing of culture chez-moi.  I keep a deck of cards just inside my door which the kids are always asking to use.  They have their own games (the two youngest ones just take turns playing whatever card they feel like – there’s no regard for numbers or suit), but I also took the opportunity to teach them about building card houses.