December is nearly finished but let me at least catch you up on the prior month. If the word of October was babies, tofu best characterizes how I spent my time in November with demonstration after demonstration about “la viande de soja”.
A fellow volunteer wanted to show a group of people in her town and asked for help collaborating on the project. I willingly obliged as I was looking forward to spending time with her and seeing how she was enjoying life at a new post. The plan was that another volunteer, Julie, would leave from the regional capital the morning of the demonstration and buy my seat in the van heading to Nkongsamba. Since it would pass right through a neighboring town, I would just meet the vehicle at the intersection (carrefour), climb in, and we’d be on our way. Of course, transportation never goes as planned here in Cameroon and my car leaving Bapa that morning decided to take an extended detour. Through several phone calls and texts, I learned the van was waiting for me. Two kilometers have never seemed so long and I arrived to a vehicle full of very angry passengers, frustrated at the lost 5-minutes of travel. I feared a mutiny so, to diffuse the situation, I dug into my bag and doled out the cookies I had stashed.
Because most of my demonstrations happen in villages, I can usually impress a crowd of village mamas if I wear the traditional kaba (giant, shapeless dress). Nkongsamba is actually a fairly well-developed town though, so I felt very out-of-place helping lead the presentation amongst women in heels, coiffed hair, and painted nails. Located in another region (the Littoral), I got to explore the area by taking a day hike with two other volunteers. It was only our intention to go on a casual hike for a few hours. Several wrong directions later, we were lost and ill-prepared (in retrospect, it was stupid to take less than 1L of water each).
Luckily, a man up in the mountains led us to some beautiful crater lakes and the gorgeous views we witnessed almost made up for the 7-hours of walking that we did. I got back to my village the next day exhausted but with no time to rest since I had agreed to lead out in a soy demonstration chez-moi with some neighbor women.
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| And to think there are students that trek those mountains daily to go to school |
We also put on tofu seminars for a farming group, a special interest group, and an NGO (ONG, en français) in Bafoussam. This agricultural organization has an amazing resource room that I look forward to using in the future. As it turns out, it seems more of my work has been agriculturally-focused than health-related, but I’m trying to go with the flow and take advantage of the opportunities that present themselves to benefit my village. I had the chance to attend a 3-day Agroforestry Seminar put on by several PCVs and their counterparts. I invited someone from a farming group I’ve been working with. The topics were really interesting and it was great to see so many people interested in advancing their livelihoods through improved techniques. We toured the organization’s fields, impressive work area, and went to the tree nursery (pépinière) to learn the skills of marcotting/grafting for plant propagation.
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| Pineapple plantation |
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| Seed identification |
Recently, there was also a regional agricultural expo fair. I’ve been attending meetings with a farming GIC (Groupe d’Initiative Commune) so it was great to see Bapa represented. From ‘Best of’ vegetable and animal entries to be judged, to witnessing a lot of transformed products, I walked away inspired by the potential and ideas, and with thoughts on better ways to market and advertise goods.
I decided to meet one-on-one with the Chief of the village to have a conversation about his vision/goals/ideas. The prospect of this meeting already made me nervous, but given that he had just returned from a 6-week vacation to Switzerland and had jazz music playing in the background during our chat left me feeling very villageoise to say the least. All in all though, I learned a lot about Bapa, and feel like we’ve come to a better understanding. After our meeting, I learned that he has recently taken a sixth wife, a Swiss woman. I was incredulous, but other people have confirmed it, though I haven’t seen her yet myself. I’m curious to meet her and learn the story behind this unusual arrangement…
In sharing American culture, the kids now occupy themselves with the travel-sized version of Connect 4 I busted out during the month. They’re happy to play by their own rules, not following any obvious strategy, but I suppose I can applaud their creativity. I also helped a Cameroonian friend set up a Gmail account which proved to be even more difficult than the craziness of opening a Cameroonian bank account. Between endless username combinations already being taken, passwords being deemed too weak, and failed attempts at reading the “captcha” on my tiny computer screen, it took far longer than I would have imagined. All of this was being done in French, including the attempted audio captcha which sounded vaguely like someone talking into a megaphone while chickens cackled in the background. Once we thought we were close, Google insisted on sending a validation code to her phone since she couldn’t link her account to an already existing email account. At this point, she realized that she had left her cell at home so I agreed to watch her 6-week-old baby while she returned to her mud brick residence to retrieve the cell phone. Finally…success!…but it makes me wonder just how connected the world will be in the future with the extreme polarization of technological advances and lacking developmental infrastructure.
I experienced a bit of a miracle during travel one day. While making a routine trip to Bafoussam, I flagged down a car heading for the regional capital and, like always, put my bag in the trunk. I’m normally fairly vigilant about watching my luggage when I do this, and that day was no exception, but since I was sharing the front seat with someone else, I couldn’t keep my eyes on the rearview mirror the entire time. Apparently someone took it out during a stop, but I didn’t realize this until we arrived at my destination in Bafoussam and I opened the trunk to find nothing inside. I tried to explain what had happened to the driver who seemed genuinely sorry, but unsure what to do. When he asked what was in the bag, I said the first thing that came to my head: “Ma vie (My life)!” In response to his puzzled look, I explained: “My computer, Internet phone, bank card, etc.” The color drained from his face at the thought of losing so many valuables and he sprang into action. Flagging down another taxi, he urged the other passengers out of our car, apologizing and throwing money at the driver telling them to take them where they need to go. We sped back to the place where we’d made our only other stop, him alternately telling me that I need to pay more attention and that I should remain calm. He went from telling me matter-of-factly that he drives this route every day and I won’t get my belonging back because there are bandits, to suggesting that we pray. To our amazement, my bag was sitting by the side of the road with nothing missing! I only had a bit of money, but I immediately gave him most of it (5000CFA/~$10USD) with an endless stream of “Merci.” I told him that I wasn’t in a hurry so we could take our time and return to a town where we could find more passengers. He was over the moon and insisted on telling everyone we came across about my good fortune. On my second trip of the day to Bafoussam, I was in such a good mood that I didn’t even mind sharing the front seat with a gendarme who professed his love to me, even offering to marry me and “give” me babies, despite his hesitation that I’m nearly too old. He even serenaded me in an attempt to woo me through song. Everyone in the car was jovial as we joked back and forth (me saying I prefer Nigerian pop music to his rendition), and I will admit that he had a clever response for every reason I refused his offer.
The food adventures have continued, as I’ve tried my hand at quiche, miso-like soup, various stir fry concoctions, and chocolate chunk pancakes. Also, having always detested the fungus, I’ve found a restaurant/bar in the nearby town that serves a tasty mushroom/rice dish, so I may be a convert! Even more exciting is the recent discovery of a schwarma place in the regional capital. Even if you get the vegetarian version (onions, tomatoes, and French fries drizzled in a spicy sauce wrapped in Lebanese bread), it’s hits the spot.
Speaking of food, I made the bumpy trip up to the West Adamawa to celebrate Thanksgiving. Spending the night before in Bafoussam, we got up at 4:30am in order to be on the first bus. We arrived dusty and banged up, but dove right in to helping with meal preparation. After everyone had taken a bucket bath and changed clothes, we were presentable enough to enjoy a feast that would have made any American spread proud: cornbread, “chips” and salsa, rolls, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, deviled eggs, cranberry sauce (thanks to a can in someone’s care package), salad, vegetable stuffing, vegetable strata, green beans, carrots, and corn. For the meat eaters, a chicken and a turkey had even been bought, killed, plucked, and prepared. It was amazingly wonderful and we all happily stuffed ourselves. Afterwards, we relaxed, chatted, listened to music, and generally enjoyed the day being with what has become a second family. The power went out for much of the evening, but that didn’t deter us from enjoying Dinner #2 made entirely of desserts that we’d been to full to enjoy before: pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, key lime pie, coconut and papaya custard, and even three different kinds of homemade ice-cream made by the sisters in the nearby Catholic mission! Spreading half a dozen foam mattresses on the ground, the day ended with a Friends Thanksgiving episode marathon. Our return trip consisted of 9 people cramped into a car but it was fun and we only dealt with 1 flat tire. Our resident New Yorker, having never even gotten her permit, got to pretend to “drive” too, much to the amusement of our actual driver.
