"I don't mean to seem like I care about material things / Like our social stats / I just want four walls and adobe slats"

To celebrate America’s Independence Day, a few of us took a quick vacation to the Southwest region, an English-speaking (anglophone) province.  Getting there ended up being more interesting than even the normally amusing travel.  I was making the journey with a friend, but we struggled to reach a consensus even among Cameroonians on the best way to get to Buea, the regional capital.  I had been informed by a few people that there was a bus service that went directly from Bafoussam to Buea.  However, no such place existed when we arrived at the general area we were told.  After a few confusing conversations, we arranged to be picked up by a bus that happened to be passing through.  After waiting a few hours, we were suddenly whisked away in a taxi to go to the intersection (carrefour) where this exchange was to take place.  When it started raining our “handlers” proposed an impromptu solution – they recognized a man who was driving by in a private car.  As luck would have it, he was driving right to Buea and would be glad to take us.  I’ll admit, climbing into a stranger’s car could be dangerous, but in retrospect, it was a fantastic decision.  As it turns out, he is originally from the Southwest region but is currently working on his PhD in Biochemistry in Finland!  Not only did we not have to be crammed in a van with dozens of other people, but we were able to whiz right through official check-points and enjoyed a fascinating conversation the whole time!                   

After seeing a bit of Buea, we made our way to Limbe, a tourist town primarily because of the water-front geography.  There, we ate delicious food at a restaurant within a gorilla preserve. 

Nothing like eating crepes while watching primates!

Because it isn’t really peak season, we basically had the beaches (les plages) to ourselves.  I can’t imagine a more perfect way to spend the 4^th in a foreign country than alternating between swimming in the Atlantic Ocean and relaxing on the isolated black sand beach.  It was simple, yet gorgeous, and the day ended with dinner under the stars among friends followed by an American dance party.     

 

 

Food update:  The rainy season is well under way which makes Bapa even colder.  In a bizarre comparison to those of you stateside who are suffering an unbearable heat wave, I’m making a nightly cup of tea or homemade hot chocolate before snuggling under the bed covers.  The weather is also lending itself to various “comfort foods” lately: quiche à la cookstove, honey bread, and an endless mélange of beans with vegetables for a sort of vegetarian chili.

On the “work” front, I’ve been attending various neighborhood (quartier) meetings in the hopes of identifying the needs (les besoins) of my village.  Unfortunately, we’ve hit a wall with distinguishing between needs and wants, and I’m now faced trying to explain why establishing electrical lines is not a priority of mine…and I certainly don’t have 12,000,000CFA (approximately $24,000USD) to start that discussion. 

I did compile a rather comprehensive survey for the members of my Health Committee to complete, though.  At a hefty 10 pages single-spaced, it covered everything from the Health Center, Mother-Child Health, education, HIV/AIDS, economic improvements, and general community development.  For their time, I promised a party at my house (une fête chez-moi).  Actually, I was sure not to use the word party, calling it a gathering (rassemblement) instead so the expectations wouldn’t be too high.  Hosting an event for a dozen or so adult Cameroonians was a bit more stressful than I originally thought, but it turned out okay in the end.  Of course, there were some minor hitches: the awkwardness while sitting around my living room at first, the onslaught of a rain storm so intense I had water coming in under my door, the power being knocked out and the room being even darker when we closed the window to keep the rain out.  After the storm had let up a bit and people were on their way making trudge back to their respective homes, I was exhausted and had slick muddy floors, but felt good about the day.

Celebrations are a big deal here though, and mine paled in comparison to the shin-dig my landlord threw for friends and family.  During the school break (congé), it’s customary for students who live in the larger cities to visit and experience village life for a bit – and vice versa.  My normally quiet and empty concession soon became home to 25+ children for two weeks.  Then, overnight, the courtyard transformed into an array of tables, plastic chairs, buffet tables, and tent awnings so accommodate a hundred or so guests.  Sometimes it’s hard to believe I’m in Africa when these Western scenes happen…  The mother in my compound was responsible for feeding everyone during this time, so was busy morning, noon, and night preparing, serving, and cleaning up after each meal.  It was an incredible amount of work for which she got very little sleep and not enough thanks, so I made her a zucchini cake once the last guest had left.