June 8, 2003

It continues to be a fascinating experience as I slowly become adjusted to the Cameroonian people and way of life. Since last we spoke, there have been a number of interesting adventures. Yesterday afternoon, we had some free time after my French language exam, so I ate lunch back at the hotel and got some good rest by finishing my first book of my Peace Corps career. I'm going to try and give a brief review of each book, in case you're interested. It also allows a short break from the "what did Pete do today?" routine.


Me Talk Pretty One Day -David Sedaris
I had heard good things about this author from reviews both professional and from friends, and overall, I would have to agree. Although seemingly autobiographical, with some obvious points of fiction, the story follows the life of Sedaris through his trials and tribulations as a sub-par, lazy, lisping, gay stranger. He's a stranger in the south (being born in the north), a stranger in France (living with his boyfriend, Hugh), and a continual stranger to most every experience he encounters. As the book begins, he is living in Raleigh, going to school (and eventually Sanderson High-for those from NC). His father is a Poughkeepsie IBM transplant and takes entirely too long to figure out if he's a State or Carolina fan. I don't want to ruin the story, but although the pieces are disconnected, Sedaris' dry wit and continual stream of random thoughts (and dreams) make for an amusing read. Score: B+


I got up in time to eat dinner and, since the weather was a perfect 72 or so with a light breeze, we all gathered in the hotel courtyard to listen to some music, play cards and get to know each other a bit better. I've only been here four days or so and I've already learned or re-learned how to play bridge, Uno, Uker (or Euker- a midwest card game), and A**hole (or Scum in Utah- or at least that's what Kristina called it). I also played a very poor game of Scrabble last night and came in 3rd place (out of four) with my partner, Sean. Around 1:30am, I finally went to sleep.


I didn't set my alarm this morning, but I got up just in time to go to the Catholic Monastary for mass with about 15 others. It was a nice, simple church and monastary complex on the top of a beautiful hill (small mountain?) overlooking the outskirts Yaounde. The mass was in French and most of the singing was in Latin (yeah! I understand!). The choir was outstanding, and could put to shame virtually every Catholic choir I've ever heard before. There was one white priest, but he didn't do anything except sit in the back, so I never had a chance to figure out who he was (not to mention, we got there too late to get a missilette. On the drive up to the monastary, we finally got out of the "heart" of the city and saw that there are some really lovely places in town. We drove past a hotel that I would heartily recommend should you come to Yaounde called the Hotel Mt. Febe. It even had a golf course! Its also near President Biya's house (Cameroonian White House, which is more like a sprawling estate/compound, and the new, under construction US Embassy.


Immediately upon returning from the monastary, we had 15 minutes to get changed for the "match du football"- soccer game. As with most countries outside the US, Cameroon is maniacal about soccer, and Yaounde has one of the three national stadiums. Today was the proverbial Green-White game, a scrimmage of the national team for the people before their gigantic game against Brazil in the next couple of weeks (I don't know exactly when). Since it was a scrimmage, admission for all was free. Being the new Americans/Peace Corps folks in town (EVERYONE knows we're here, believe me), we were escorted to the premium seats just down from the Prime Minister (Biya's second in charge, who was there today). Premium is a bit of a misnomer because the upgrade was from cement steps (the smaller ones were steps, the larger ones were rows of "seats") to mostly cracked and some broken molded plastic seats. We were just happy to be in the shade. There was about 60,000 people in the stadium which functioned as the city's main athletic complex. There are built-in facilities for soccer, track and field, and even a velodrome around the outside. As we were coming in, the team was coming from their bus into the stadium. I have to tell you that I have never seen anyone treated quite like these guys. They were entirely surrounded with armed guards with additonal soldiers for crowd control. Their bus has the name of the team on the side so its able to move through traffic with ease, but this is greatly facilitated by the fact that its escorted by an APC- that's right, armoured personnel carrier, complete with 2 gun turrets on top. I was told that only 2 members of the team live in Cameroon, while the rest are highly paid members of various European city teams. During the pregame, there were a couple of very loud drum groups, one of which was fronted by seven girls who were shaking their arms and hips in sync for well over 2 hours- without a break, and another which was headed by this hilarious fat guy who was mostly naked except for a Cameroon flag around his waste. The rest of his entire body (including bald head) was covered in green, red and yellow paint, with a yellow star around his belly button. Pretty damn funny, let me tell you. Sadly, we weren't allowed to bring cameras, so you'll have to picture it. The game was excellent until towards the end of the second period. I was watching the game and noticed that there was massive movement on the opposite side of the field. I had an aweful feeling I was about to witness one of those soccer tramplings you read about (the crowd is hemmed in by tall fences in several directions). Miraculously, it appeared that the crowd all moved at the same speed in the same general direction, and I don't think anyone got hurt. Its quite a spectacle to see 20,000 people or so running for their lives at the same time. We later learned that the stands had shook, and there was a great fear that the second level (of 3) was going to collapse under the weight, potentially killing them. As soon as the team saw what was happening, the ran into the tunnel which took them out of the stadium, and the game was over. We waited around a short while for things to calm down and then left. What a crazy afternoon! We walked back to the Peace Corps office without incident and then shuttled back to the hotel (the office is virtually across the street from the stadium).

Upon returning from that adventure, we had to rush and change clothes again for dinner at the Country Director's home. He lives right next to the Israeli embassy, so you can imagine the security on his street. His name is Robert Strauss and was a volunteer himself many years ago. He's a super nice guy and has a lovely wife and 4 year old daughter, Alegra. He had dinner catered and so we all ate and drank up a storm. Several big-shots showed up including the Deputy US Ambassador (the Ambassador was out of the country) and the Secretary of Education for Cameroon. I sat at the Ambassador's table, and had a great conversation. He's quite down to earth, and was also a Peace Corps volunteer prior to starting his 30 year foreign service career. He recommended that I take the exam next year, since I can take the written part at the embassy.

Thus ended my last day and a half. It continues to be quite a ride. Wednesday we ship out to Bandjoun, near Banffoussam, where we'll move in with our host families for 3 months!


Friday, June 13, 2003

Its been a few days since I've been able to get to my computer to write the next installment, and over a week since I've been on the internet. Tomorrow we're all going to Banffoussam where the closest cyber-cafe lurks awaiting our arrival. Completely unaware of the influx of "blancs" coming to take over. I'm writing this and all future (or at least for the foreseeable future) on my laptop and then am transferring to disk to upload (cut and paste, really) to the 'blog.

To say the five days have been a whirlwind of activities and emotions is quite the understatement. I've been through just about every thought and feeling in just these few days. When we left our hotel in Yaounde, little did I know what was to occur. My first adventure to see more of the country that will be my home for the next two years. We loaded up three buses on Wednesday morning. And when I say loaded up, I mean that we had four men passing our 50-70 lb bags overhead to be stacked and strapped on top of the bus. This left a decent amount of room inside as we had about 18 people per bus with only our backpacks, camera bags and bag lunches. Believe it or not, this is a country that McDonalds has yet to discover. As such, there are no rest stops and no drive-thrus. Our bag lunches consisted of a bottled soda (I got lucky and had fruit-cocktail flavor. Jen, who was sitting next to me wasn't so lucky and got grennadine-flavored- yes, its as sweet and nasty as you might imagine). We were informed that the trip could take anywhere from four to six hours depending on roadblocks. One of the realities of this country is that it is the most corrupt country in the world (according to several sources, including the people here). The upside is that its so consistently corrupt, that you can plan for it. In fact, we heard a story yesterday about a business that, under a Peace Corps business volunteer's suggestion, actually budgeted a line-item for bribes. Anyway, we set on our way two hours after we had thought.

On the way, I counted two official-looking tolls where we had to pay, and about 30 roadblocks on one side of the road or another. We were only stopped twice. I couldn't tell if it was because it was a bus, because we were obviously foriegners, or because they were just busy exacting bribes from other motorists, and didn't want to hold up traffic. Apparently all it takes is a uniform, a couple of orange cones and a long 2x4 full of exposed nails.

The countryside was quite beautiful, and the air was a refreshing change from the smog of Yaounde. There were all kinds of plants and farms, including a pineapple plantation. Apparently, Dole and Del Monte have large operations here for selling pineapples in Europe. While we're on the topic, fruit here is insanely cheap. You can get a pineapple, as Kristine did after lunch today, freshly cut by the vendor, ready to eat, for 100 CFA, or about 20 cents. For the same amount, you can get four mangos or a papaya. Coconuts are also widely available, but I don't eat the stuff.

Upon arriving in Bandjoun, we pulled up to a hotel on the side of the road. Awaiting us, safely inside from the rain, were our host families. Our new parents, brothers and sisters for the next 10 weeks. The rain has a way of coming down at the most inconvenient of times, and while unloading all of the bags from the top of the buses was right at the top of the list. We all went inside where it was all Cameroonians on one side of the room, and us Americans on the other. David, our Cameroonian guide/translator/Assistant Peace Corps director/all-around amazing guy, said a few words to our new families and we went about the process of matching the names we had on a slip of paper with the faces in the crowd. After a few minutes, I was introduced to my "maman" and my oldest "frere". Mama is the youngest wife of my papa, Jean Fotso, or as they say here, Fotso Jean (family names are much more important than individual names). We stumbled a little saying a few kind words, limited by my French speaking and my inability to understand theirs. We shoved all my bags in a taxi and sped away. A word about taxis in this country... they're usually litlle Renaults, (four door, four passenger smallish sedans). In order to take one, you stand on the side of the road (for the direction you're going) and flag one down. When one stops, you tell the driver where you're going, and how much you're going to pay him. If you don't know how much, you have to ask and haggle. There may already be as many as five other people in the car already, but if your destination and price are agreeable, you get in. The other day, I was in one of these with the driver, five adults and a young teenager. That's right, seven people in a Renault- including me. Quite an experience. The upside is that they come by frequently and are dirt cheap. A five mile ride costs around 50 cents out here in Bandjoun. It was about 50 cents for 1 mile in Yaounde, still a bargain.

Ok, back to the family...I knew before I got there that my papa was a polygamist and that there were 12 children. Seeing that on paper, and experiencing are quite different. Growing up in a very small immediate and extended family didn't help. We got out of the taxi and walked from the main highway down a couple of smaller residential streets until we got to a large cement walled compound. To make the cement wall more attractive, there are large, simplistic flowers imprinted on the exterior. We opened the gate and went inside. The culture shock was overwhelming. Here I was in the mud (its red mud, in Bandjoun, just like central NC) since the rain had recently stopped, with large bags greeting little faces from every corner. There are indeed 12 children between 2 wives. There are at least five under the age of three and three that rotate feeding on the two womens' breasts (which pop out with a regular frequency). I met the children, just like the new father in the Sound of Music, but my brain just can't hold the names and ages of all twelve quite yet.

The compound is a decent sized grouping of buildings around a square. One side is the cement gate to the road, another side is the kitchen. The kitchen is a dirt-floored, hut with a pit wood-fire cooking area. Inside are various foods that can be stored (there is no refrigeration here) put up on shelves and stowed away to keep from children and various animals. Around the firepit are a number of small rectangular wooden stools. Along the third wall is a series of rooms which I have yet to explore, one of which houses dirty dishes and a propane cooktop, which is rarely used, mostly for boiling water for coffee, etc. The fourth wall is the main house. The left side is a series of three rooms with its own locked door. One room is a pit latrine with cement "guides", just in case you miss. There are no handles and no toilet paper (the Peace Corps supplied me with an initial stash, luckily). I haven't figured out what the middle room is for, and the third room is where I take my bucket baths. There is only one faucet for the entire compound, which is in the middle of the courtyard, closest to the kitchen, which is uphill and opposite from the living area side. Inside the living area, there are at least three bedrooms, of which I have one to myself. My window faces out into the courtyard. That means there are 12 children, a husband and 2 wives in the rest of the living area. The bedrooms are around a living room with a non-functioning TV and a boombox radio. Around the living room are interesting decorations, including various animal pelts and old photos of, I'm assuming, family members.

My room is about ten by ten with a double bed, a small desk with chair, a metal trunk provided by Peace Corps, and all the things I brought with me. My room is small but rather comfortable. I am living out of my suitcases at the moment though, since there is no closet or dresser of any kind. I do have a hanging dowel, but I use it to dry my towel. The first night, I couldn't sleep at all. I was completely exhausted Thursday as a result. There were just too many new things, my French was failing me, the food was filling, but not that tasty or nutritious, and there are four guard dogs who prowl the courtyard at night to protect from robbers. The pigs can also be quite loud. Our little courtyard, incidently, is pretty self-sufficient. We have two pigs who live on the other side of one wall, four guard dogs, who are kept in a dark room next to my room all day and let out at night and hit nonchalantly with sticks if it looks like they're not going to do what they're told. We have at least three chickens (although I think there are more), and an entire garden. We have a papaya tree, a mango tree and a banana tree. We have some corn, cabbage, ginger, collard greens and potatos. All this in a probably 90 foot by 90 foot interior space.

After the first night, I was trying to figure out how I was going to go through 10 weeks more. I thought about coming back to the US, reassessing everything that brought me here. But, I also remembered people telling us over and over that the first night of homestay is the worst night of the entire Peace Corps experience. I hope that's true, because it sure wasn't fun. My oldest brother here, Cedric, has been helping me with cleaning clothes and drawing water for my bath. Without him and my Mama, it would've been worse last night. I decided that I didn't want to eat in the dirt kitchen anymore, so when asked, I let Mama know that I preferred to eat in the living room, which does have a little table to eat at in addition to a coffee table in the middle of a plush sofa and chair set. Last night was better than the first, and tonight became immeasurably better with the return of my Papa from several days of "visiting his sick sister in Douala". I met him this afternoon after returning from training. He's a really nice man who's very interested in helping me learn French and even went through a whole routine of pointing things out in the room and telling me what they were in French. He also corrects my sentence structure and verb tenses, which is EXACTLY what I need most. The food got better on his return, and I think I'll be just fine.

Speaking of food, starch is king here. I've had mashed potatos with lentil beans mixed in as a meal, rice with dried fish, manioc with fish gumbo and cous cous with fish and smashed greens (kinda like a spicy creamed spinach). Manioc, or fou fou, is horrible. It almost gagged last night while eating it, and the fish gumbo was the only thing that saved me. The consistency is like a potato paste, and its eaten with the first three fingers on your right hand, dipping first into the gumbo for some semblance of flavor. I told them that I never eat much, and they've seemed to be ok with that. I certainly am. I'm sure there are better recipies for the ingredients they have here, but these folks haven't found them. Oh, and yesterday at a restaurant for lunch, I ordered chicken, and it came boiled with little flavoring. I got the leg quarter, complete with the complete leg, and foot...Yum!

The training, unlike the food, is excellent. We're getting a variety of business-specific, french language and health training. The trainers know their stuff, and I've enjoyed every minute of it. The other excellent part is the people I'm going through this experience with. I can already tell that a number of them will be friends for life. Out of fifty-five people, there are maybe five people that I don't "feel the need" to talk to because of various personality traits. The rest are truly wonderful people. Tomorrow, as I mentioned at the beginning, we're all going to Banfoussam. A Saturday in the big city to check it out and send lots of emails!! Its 11pm and the cock crows around 5:30 (I'm not joking, the bastard doesn't shut up for like an hour!), so I'm checking out.

I miss you all. I will read all emails sent to me and will respond to as many as I can. The keyboards here are french-style which letters in the wrong places, so I apologize in advance for misspelled and poorly puctuated notes.