Jeanah and Will and back to normal...

Jeanah had returned to the US about two months ago after her uncle and Godfather, whom she was very close to, had died rather suddenly. I had not seen her since her return. Since we'd become friends through the SED Steering Committee and other activities, I decided that my close proximity called for a visit.

The visit, however meant that I was not going to make it back to Edéa for another week, since staying up in that part of the country until Saturday necessitated that I attend a large party called 'Cowfest' (more on that later). I called my former postmate, Will, who was staying at my house, to ask him to stop by the bank (since we still don't have a phone) and let them know I wasn't going to be there for a week. With that done, my week was free to visit friends and villages I might not otherwise have a chance to see.

I should back up and tell the brief story of Will's move. I just realized I hadn't written about it, and it was quite interesting...

Will decided several months ago (coinciding with a theft at his house in Edéa) that he would prefer to live out in a small village where he could truly become part of the community he was helping. In Edéa, as an agro-forestry volunteer, he had to either meet with farmers as they came into town, or take cars out to villages in the early morning and return that evening. I have to agree that he wasn't as happy or effective as he could have been. Between his sponsoring organization, and NGO called Cameroun Ecology, and Peace Corps, they decided to move him out to a village called Ngonga. George Yebit, the Peace Corps program director for the agro program, arrived one day several weeks ago with a truck to move Will and all his things out to Ngonga. Will had moved the previous week from his house into mine, and was temporarily living with me. Will said they could use some help, so I offered to go along, curious about what a "real" village post in the jungle looked like.

We loaded up the covered pickup with all of Will's stuff, and Will and I climbed in back with it all, since the front seat was all taken up with the driver, George, and Will's counterpart (who had to show us the way). We started out on the main road, turned off onto a paved side road and about twenty minutes later hit dirt, actually, mud. Since its now rainy season, there are no more dirt roads. There was quite a bit of bumping around in the back of that truck, but we were holding it together. Once, we came upon a bridge, the driver looked at it, and even though it was V-shaped (as in, about to collapse), backed up and went over it quickly. Another time, a bit later, we stopped. I thought we had arrived, but when Will and I got out of the truck, we discovered we had stopped due to a fallen tree entirely covering the road. We weren't sure we'd be able to remove it, but we got out the machetes we had and started hacking and pulling away. Between the five of us, only twenty minutes later we had cut a path on the right side of the road large enough for the truck to pass. It was one of those times I truly felt like a stereotypical Peace Corps volunteer in West Africa. Three hours after we had begun (and two and a half after hitting the mud), we made it to the village, which was more like a grouping of about ten houses on both sides of the mud road.

We stopped at the store (emphasis on "THE") and found someone who knew where the empty houses were. The first was across the street. We went in, looked around, and decided it looked like it was abandoned twenty years ago, did not have a drop roof and of course didn't have electricity or plumbing. There was also the remnants of a family graveyard in the frontyard. Not a good start. While the driver was eating some boiled porcupine with tomato sauce (not as bad as it sounds), and I was recovering from the ride and preparing for the unloading and return trip, Will and George went to look at the other available house up the street. It was apparently better, but not in move-in condition either. So, we unlocked the mayor's house (the mayor of Edéa is from this village and has built a large brick house amidst the much smaller houses) and carried all of his things into it, even as the rain was beginning to pour. Before the rain got worse, George signaled the departure. I turned to Will, who I've become good friends with, and said, "Good luck". With that, we took off back from whence we came.


Alright, back to Jeanah...
Katie and I decided to spend most of the day in Baffoussam since there's not a whole lot to do in Babadjou. She did internet, while I found Anna and had a drink. Afterwards, we all met up with some of the brand new volunteers for more drinks, but this time in front of the TV in a quiet bar above the main road to watch the Olympics. This was the first I'd seen of the olympics, and I was really getting into the women's weightlifting and one-man sailing events, not to mention team handball. As dark was approaching, Katie let me know that we should head on out since Jeanah had promised to cook dinner for us.

When we arrived in Babadjou, it was pitch black, and in villages, there are no street lights. Although Katie knew where she was going, the afternoon rain had left the steep stone/mud steps leading downwards to Jeanah's house almost deadly. I felt like a two year old just learning how to walk, taking each step so carefully. Jeanah had prepared a nice pasta meal for us, which was nicely complimented by boxed wine (bottled wine is SO bourgeois). No one wanted to try the stairs again after our wonderful evening together, so I "volunteered" (was volunteered?) to take the sleeping bag on the floor.

The next day, since I had no specific plans, I decided to hang out with Jeanah, visit her bank, do some errands in Baffoussam, and stay there again that night (Katie had offered to cook this time). After some meet and greet at the bank, we went into Baffoussam and met the Alain and Pat, the new volunteers, for a tasty lunch (one of the best meals I'd had in that town). After finishing the errands, including some quality internet time for both of us, we returned to the Olympic Bar, as it had since become, for more exciting events, already in progress.

We stopped on the way back for some grilled goat on a stick (brochettes de chevre) to compliment our dinner, as requested. We arrived and dinner was far from complete (Katie claimed her day was jammed full of people parading through her home to see how her previous week had been). So, we worked to finish dinner, ate and Jeanah and I returned to her house to sleep. Sometime in there, I had arranged to stay the next night in Kumbo, with another new volunteer I had become quick friends with, Scott.
I started out early, since the trip to Kumbo was projected to take about four hours. It took about five, but who's counting. It was relatively painless, and Kumbo, despite not having any paved roads and a hilly terrain (not a good combination in rainy season), was a wonderful town. Scott's almost postmate Anne was also visiting, so we all went to the market together and decided to have beef stew for dinner. We did some other shopping along the way as well (Scott was still buying items for his new home, including a guest mattress). We had a great time, and dinner turned out fantastically. Afterwards, Scott set up his laptop and we watched "Bowling for Columbine", that he had brought with hime, and I had never seen before. Moore can really be annoying, but he gets his point across...

The next night, I was supposed to stay with Jen, who lived on the road between Kumbo and Bamenda. At the last minute, she decided it wasn't a good idea since she had some other things going on, so I continued down the road and stayed with Mike, the business volunteer in Bamenda. He also works at the headquarters for my branch bank in Edéa, so we had plenty to talk about (this is the same Mike who went to the same high school as my father). As always in Bamenda, I eat really well and sleep horribly. I don't know why. Dinner of grilled fish and chicken with fried plantains and greens was fantastic, and the bed was lumpy with roosters waiting outside the window for five a.m. to roll around.

The next day I met up with my friend Cathy and others for a nice cheeseburger lunch meeting to discuss the problems of our bank network with one of the guys from HQ. Following that (and preceeding it) was lots of shopping! We went to the clothing market in Bamenda where I found a gorgeous traditional outfit that I bought for a great price, and two McDonalds uniform shirts (one to wear and one for the host) for "Cowfest", which was the next day.

"Cowfest" is a concept developed by my friend Greg, a devout carnivore, based on a dream he had. In this dream, a Cameroonian cow was not hacked up at random by a butcher's unknowing hand, but was carefully cut wit care, revealing ribeyes, New York strips, and filet mignons. A dream where meat was grilled over a smokey fire, not boiled into oblivion. He decided to make the dream a reality, and invited us to share in its manifestations.

About forty volunteers showed up that Saturday afternoon, from all over the country. It was like Woodstock, but with beef instead of music. It was indeed beautiful, if not the smallest bit primal. I arrived early to help prepare items like potato salad and mashed potatoes, and ate and drank for a good eight hours straight, ingesting about two pounds of meat alone. I didn't really care what my innards were going to do in revolt, it was yummy. Oh, and it was also great to see friends I hadn't seen in a while and catch up on Peace Corps gossip.

The return home was long, but I made it there before dark the next day, which is all I really cared about. I slept a lot.


A few days later, my former postmate Will, and his girlfriend Brookes came up from a brief trip to Kribi. They were supposed to meet me up near Bamenda for Cowfest, but were unable to due to a problem with his good friend who is now based in Kribi. Apparently, he became friends with the wrong crowd, who discovered that he had a portable computer in his house. Of course, they showed up at his house late one night with machetes and knives in hand demanding his computer. He was somehow able to escape out the back door and scream to his neighbors who came running. The guys with the knives dropped everything and ran. Nonetheless, he was quite shaken and felt it was only a matter of time before they came back for him and the computer. He no longer lives in Kribi...

Alain, my "buddy" from the post office, has been around recently as well. One day a couple of weeks ago, he came by asking to have a chat. I'm not real keen on our chats, since they normally end in him asking for something. This time, he came to inform me that he had applied for his Cameroonian visa. I had told him a long time ago that if he really wanted to live in the US (every Cameroonian's dream), he had to have a passport before he could even apply for a visa. He's convinced that I'm going to get him a visa and that he's going to come live with me. I didn't think he was going to follow up on the first step, but it looks as though he has. We'll see...

Last week, I also received a call from Alain letting me know that his brother had died of tuberculosis (read: AIDS). This was the third sibling (two brothers and one sister) who had died of the same thing within the last ten months, all of them between 25 and 35 years old. He was upset, but seeing as this was the same brother who threatened his life and beat him only three months before, I think it was a little easier than the last one. Its still quite sad though, and I gave him a little money to help the family out.

The big excitement in town last week was the collapse of market bridge. The market is laid out in one big circle around a primary school and the mouth of a creek. During the evening (luckily), there was a mudslide which caused the retaining wall connected to the bridge, and thus the bridge, to collapse. Unfortunately, there were two women on the bridge at the time, although is seems they were not killed. The whole city was using this as evidence that the government did nothing. Of course, within days, the government put up a sign saying they were in progress of repairing it. Since the elections are supposed to be next month, there's a chance for a quick fix...