Tuesday, November 23, 2004

The festival, the festival, I want to go to the festival!

Monday, November 15, 2004

The festival season has begun here in Cameroon. Until New Years, there's a major celebration somewhere just about every week. Sadly, I missed (for the second time) the end of Rammadan celebration which is famous in Foumban. Sometime in early December is the Bali Fest in the anglophone area. This week is the Mbog-Liaa festival right here in Edéa which is followed in two weeks by the Mpoo festival a few miles down the road. I went to the second night of the Mbog-Liaa festival with my friend Sylvie, who sells onions and peanuts in the market. Sometimes she sells garlic too (she has a thing for roots, I suppose).

I had "fait le marché" on Saturday morning, the Grand Marché, for the first time in weeks- having eaten some of food that had been storing up in my cupboards. I always chat with my friends who sell various items in the market, but because of her placement, I end up talking to Sylvie both on the front end and just before I return home. The weather was a little cooler than it had been due to a big rain the night before. And, I didn't have much going on (and another market friend invited me to lunch for ndolé) Anyway, we got there a little early, but made up for it by staying late.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Book Report: The Peaceful Thief

My dear friend, Ditas, sent me 'The Way of the Peaceful Warrior' by Dan Millman thinking that I would get something out of it. It prominently features her alma mater, Cal-Berkeley, and is a philisophical/self-help search for the meaning of life. While Millman is a poor writer (I don't say that often, since I can usually find something to appreciate) but he has a good message. While he uses a contrived platform for delivering his sermon on vegetarianism and Buddhism, in the end (the VERY end) he discovers that happiness comes from within and its possible all the time (in other words, the search for happiness is a waste of time and energy). I do believe in the message, I just wish it had come from someone else.


Another book that showed up at my house via Will was 'The Orchid Thief' by Susan Orlean. I never saw the movie "Adaptation" which was based on this book, but I'll certainly rent it when I get back. Its almost like the movie "Best in Show" of the flower world (yes, there is a 'best in show' award for flower shows), but this story's entirely true! If you've ever been to southern Florida and driven around the Everglades, you can appreciate the setting and the kinds of folks who live there. But, if you've ever known someone (or yourself) who is obsessed with something seemingly meaningless (like collecting exotic flowers) then you'll enjoy this book. Some people really are nuts, but if they're happy, maybe we shouldn't judge so quickly.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Book Report: The Sound and the Cider

'The Sound and the Fury' by William Faulkner

I never had the courage to pick up a Faulkner book before now. I guess I felt a bit intimidated. When the back cover says its one of the 20th century's greatest novels, I even feel justified. Even so, I decided to pick up 'The Sound and the Fury' just to give it a shot. During the first chapter, I was thinking to myself that a PhD in Literature (or at least English!) was necessary to wade through and even interpret what was going on in this book. It was really a humbling experience. As the chapters progressed, the light became a little brighter, the characters came a bit into focus and the storyline, such as it was, became discernible. Of course it doesn't help that two of the main characters have the same name, and that the first chapter was "written" by the mentally retarded brother. In the end, its a book that should only be read if you have the time and willingness to read it two or three times in a row. Otherwise, the unique style and prose of Faulkner is all its cracked up to be, its just that reading a puzzle makes the first few pieces have a lot less meaning. If you read it again knowing what the puzzle's supposed to look like in the end, I'm sure it would be a lot more fun.


'The Cider House Rules' by John Irving

I wasn't too encouraged about reading 'The Cider House Rules' by John Irving, when I came to be the temporary owner of it. I had seen the movie several years ago and couldn't remember anything special about it. In fact, I remember it being rather sappy. My sometimes postmate, Will, had taken it and read it and highly recommended it though, so I thought I'd give it a read (especially since someone else has asked to borrow it). While the story line on its surface is pretty predictable, the story-telling is engaging. And one thing I have to say about John Irving is that he writes the smoothest and most interesting transitions between sub-plots that I've ever encountered. His technique is a pleasure to read. What on one level is a morality tale (or immorality tale, depending on your point of view) of abortion versus adoption, its also a catalog of how many different ways its possible to love someone. I can see why this book was so enticing to Hollywood, but there are some stories that are a little too complex, a little too subtextual for the big screen, and should be left alone.

Now we're cookin' with gas!

I've been a busy little bee since returning from Yaoundé, where we had a very successful and productive meeting of the SED Steering Committee. I decided just before going to Yaoundé that I was going to start giving business seminars to the residents of my fair city of Edéa. I gave myself only a few weeks to get it going, but that was on purpose, since I tend to work well (or at least better) under pressure. Before leaving, I had gotten the endorsement of the local delegate for the ministry of agriculture (who happens to be a friend) and he promised to lend me his conference room for the seminars.

Following my return, I put together some flyers and posters and started distributing them. I talked to all my friends, who all promised to come (only some did to the first one, but there's still time). Finally, yesterday was the big day. I had no idea if people were actually going to show up or not. I had decided to make them pay a small amount to cover the cost of the photocopies -equivalent to about 40 cents, or $3 for all ten of the seminars. I left the bank around 2:30pm for the seminar which was to start at 3pm. I picked up the handouts at the photocopier (my friend owns a converted shipping container that holds the copier he bought with a loan from our bank) and was the first one in the room. Cameroonians are well known for never being on time, but I was hoping that since they knew it was a White Man doing it, that they could at least try to arrive 'à l'heure'. As three o'clock came, there were about ten people in the room. It wasn't what I was hoping for, but I figured ten people is a lot more than the zero people I would reach sitting in my office that afternoon. I decided to wait a few more minutes until the Delegate arrived -since it was his conference room, he wanted to officially open the seminars, and he ended up staying for the whole thing! He gave a nice introduction, and by the time I started at about 3:20, there were over 30 people in the room! It turned out that there were 35 people who attended, with about half of them paying up front for all ten of the seminars. I was pretty happy at that point, so I continued with my two hour lecture. I finished around 5pm, and took questions. The questions were all great, relevant, and showed that they understood what I was talking about and paid attention (I was doing the whole thing in french, mind you, so I expected some people to fall asleep or just get up and leave). When it was over, I was pretty exhausted, but several people came to tell me that they were really happy I was doing these seminars and were looking forward to the other ones. George, my counterpart, who handled taking attendance and collecting money, said that folks were really pleased and that I should expect to have 50 people or more next week! I can't wait!

Teaching continues to go well, and my youngest kids now know how to tell time in English! My older kids are getting the hang of the present-continuous verb tense (ex. I am writing). I read the younger ones the book, 'Goodnight Moon' which they enjoyed (thanks again to Darien Book Aid!).

The mother of the president of the bank (actually the current and former, since they're brothers) died a couple of weeks ago. She was 84, which is an astonishing age here in Cameroon. I was invited to the funeral ceremonies which took place last Friday and Saturday. Since neither George nor I wanted to spend the night in the village (where there would likely be no available beds), we went early Saturday morning with a small contingent from the bank. I was advised to bring a gift for the occasion, so I bought a case of boxed wine (really sweet red wine from Spain that people LOVE and prefer to drink chilled). After a series of shared taxis (my left leg fell asleep quite completely and I almost fell down getting out of the car), we arrived at the house. I was tucked away off the road, but we followed the music. Before the cermonies began, I was asked if I wanted to see the body. I hadn't known the woman (although I did type up and design the program for her funeral), but I did know that the only acceptable answer was 'yes'. So, we went into the house, which was shrouded in white and purple fabric and had been cleared except for the elevated coffin and chairs around its perimeter. The coffin was made almost entirely of glass, which was a little surprising to me. I had been to funerals here that had a little glass window that you could shut right where the face was, but this one was all glass, except for the wood edges holding the glass bits in place. She was wearing what appeared to be a wedding dress, and had quite a bit of makeup on, making her look almost plastic. She looked like a grandmother.

When things finally got going, I was ushered to the front row for the best view of the Catholic funeral mass that was performed in Bassa (so I understood virtually nothing). After that, we waited around until the music started up again. One of the local musicians is from that village, so I'd seen her before and her style has grown on me. She's litterally a little old lady with an electric guitar who sits and sings traditional songs and sometimes vamps and says whatever's on her mind. She's quite funny, actually. She also sang in Bassa, so her lyrics were translated to me by the president of the women's committee, who has adopted me and told me that I can't leave her next year. After a bit of uplifting music, there were the testimonials, which were much like they are in the US. It was all various family members talking about Grandma's life and what she meant to them. It was touching. Around 2pm, we finally ate (it seems that's the main reason some people had come). I was again ushered to the VIP area (leaving George, Mama and the others behind). The food was great, and I hadn't eaten that much meat in some time. I sometimes forget how much meat I used to eat in the US. When everyone had their fill, we got a ride back with the Delegate (yes, he's also from that village- life here is rather incestuous at times).

Just a couple of parting words about the US election... Contrary to popular belief that all Peace Corps volunteers are socialist tree-huggers (or at least Democrats), there are some republicans among us. I, however, am not one of them. I was only able to follow the run-up to the election on the BBC (and Will and I scored a Herald-Tribune with the transcript to the first debate), so I wasn't completely informed. However, I was more than a little disappointed by the outcome, both for President and Congress. I hope that Bush is able to cut the cowboy crap enough to make it acceptable for someone else in the world to be associated with us. We may be the biggest and the best, but the world is a lot less unequal every day. At some point, even bullies need friends.