Thursday, May 12, 2005

Parents' Visit

My Cameroonian foster parents from Bandjoun decided they wanted to make one more visit to Edéa to see how I was doing. So, the morning after the Rallye, they arrived, baby Katie in tow, after taking the overnight bus from Baffoussam (left at 1am and changed buses in Douala) at 9am. After having been up a good portion of the night and the house not in its best shape, I was a little less than thrilled at the timing, but wanted to "receive" them as best I could.

I had given money to my friend Sylvie several days before to buy and prepare a meal for us. She arrived several hours after they did, and began to make ndolé and fish in spicy tomato sauce. One thing Cameroonians like to do is to prepare massive amounts of food, just in case extra guests arrive or someone is particularly hungry. Since neither of those things happened, we ended up with a LOT of leftovers. The food was quite tasty though (Mama gave Sylvie a hard time for making the sauce too spicy, since she knows I don't like my food too hot), and after cleaning up, we retired to rest for a bit.

Over the next two days, we played games, listened to music, ate (again and again), visited the office and the market, and even made a tour to the aluminum factory and power plant (they were sufficiently impressed). Edéa is MUCH more industrial and cosmopolitan than Bandjoun, so it was a bit like the country mouse going to visit the city mouse.

Sylvie was a tremendous help, since she stuck around for almost all of their visit, helping with the cooking and cleaning (culturally, it would look very bad for me, as an adult male, to be cooking for my parents), and with the conversation. I was happy she could be there. At last, Tuesday morning came, and they returned to Bandjoun with a large 22-liter container of fresh palm oil (made by George, my counterpart) as a gift from the visit.

Rallye Club des Palmes 2005

Almost the antithesis of Guitarfest (tm) is the Ralley Club des Palmes, which takes place every April in Edéa. Its one of the most sponsored events in the country in which regular people (read: expats and rich folks with cars) can participate. I described the whole concept last year, which was the first time I participated. This time, I was resolved to do better than our 25th+ finish.

This year, one of the teachers in whose class I teach english was chairing the event (the downside of winning the whole thing the year before), so I asked if he could find a place for me. He mentioned a Cameroonian guy and his girlfriend were looking for others to fill up their car, and requested that I find a female to accompany us. I called up a friend of a friend who was staying in Kribi for a few weeks (and whom I had met on a brief trip down the week before). Jessica didn't really understand the whole concept, as its a bit difficult to describe, but was willing nonetheless. Unfortunately, this group fell through since the car broke down, but we were able to find another team to take us on- a Frenchman in Edéa on business.

We arrived the morning of the rally and figured out who we would be riding with- Pierre Yves. It turns out that two Cameroonian women were also going to join us, for a total of five. Being the other male in the group, I was given the job of navigator (the joke about women and directions seems to be universal). Throughout the day, we drove, and answered inane quizzes and showed a bit of mental and physical prowess. We did particularly well at the sand castle building, obstacle course driving in a 4x4, canoe race and swim-tug race (a kid had to stand on an innertube-based platform while we swam dragging them along). By 6pm (after starting just before 9am), we put the finishing touches on the last quiz (this one was about African country flags, among other things) and retired before dinner. I felt good about our truly international team effort, but was happy to rest for an hour or so before food and the awards ceremony.

The awards started at 30th place and worked up to first. Everyone was a bit on edge, hoping not to be one of the first teams to be called forward. When 10th place was called, and we had still not been called, we all looked at each other with a bit of disbelief. How could a young group just thrown together do so well against teams who have done this year after year for many years??? Finally, our team was called as the fifth place finisher! We were ecstatic!! We all went up as a team to claim our trophy (the top five got trophies) and other prizes! The MC for the evening made a comment that a team with two americans shouldn't have done so well, which I thought was hilarious, as did most everyone else. I personnally returned home with a gift basket of Cameroonian foods (coffee, tea, jams, etc), while Pierre-Yves took the trophy and Jessica (my friend) took a flashlight and some palm oil for the family she was staying with in Kribi. Mostly though, we returned with the knowledge that we had done well. We finished the evening with dancing - together.

COS Conference

Almost seven hours later, we arrived in Yaoundé to begin a week of talking about our experiences of the last two years, and preparing to return to the "Greatest Country on Earth", as its become known among most volunteers. We arrived at the Hotel Jouvence 2000, the exact hotel where we arrived two years before on a bus on a rainy night coming from the Yaoundé airport. The same people (minus some who had to go home for various reasons) all together again for one last time before going our separate ways. In some ways it was poetic, in others, just sad.

Since a good number of us were exhausted, we headed up to the room, showered off the dust and sweat from the road and rested for an hour or so before leaving for the Director's house for the big farewell dinner. Joe and I decided a while back we'd be roommates for the week, since we were good friends in training, lived almost across the street from each other, in fact, but haven't really seen much of each other in the last two years. It seemed like a good opportunity to catch up.

Dinner at the Director's was a good time, but it sorta made the rest of the week a bit anti-climatic, since everyone was there all dressed up and all together. With the exception of the sessions during the following days, it was the last time we were all together (the 'Last Supper', so to speak). Both the US Ambassador to Cameroon and the Assistant Secretary for Primary Education were there to lend a bit of importance to the evening.

The director read out our "Aspiration Statements", what we had written during the application process well over two years ago about what we expected and wanted to achieve during our time here. It was quite interesting to see whose were right on target and whose were proven to be a bit delusional. Regardless, we all made it to the end.

A rather abrupt end was brought to the evening by a deputy director who stood up and said that we all looked tired, but that protocol dictated we could not leave until the Ambassador left. A little shocked, the Ambassador stood up and took the not so subtle cue that he should leave (we were all embarrassed, but nothing really shocks us anymore). Moments after he left, we started piling in Peace Corps cars for the ride back to the hotel.

The sessions were a mix of the helpful, the administrative, and the downright boring. Overall, it was well done though, except for the food. Previous groups had ended their service at the Hilton hotel eating omlettes and bacon every morning. We were served bread and jam (with real butter though, which was the only "highlight").

After the sessions each day, we separated into the "cliques" that had been formed in training and throughout the past couple of years. As a result, some went to restaurants and bars afterwards and others went to the case de passage at Peace Corps headquarters to do laundry. I generally chose the former route, using the opportunity to celebrate with friends and eat good food (and drink entirely too much beer- a frequent occurence when two or more volunteers get together- which reminds me that I haven't told the joke about Peace Corps volunteers: The story is that volunteers in central/south america return as revolutionaries, the ones in Asia return married, and the one in Africa return as alcoholics- I don't think I've gone that far, but I'd be happy to challenge someone in a six-pack of any american beer when I get back).

The last night of the conference, before we were supposed to return the next day, about ten of us went to a night club in Yaoundé. The one that was chosen is the newest and best- perhaps the best in the country- and right up there with any club in the US outside of New York and LA. We didn't have to pay to get in, but quickly found out that the drinks were 10.000 fcfa each ($20), which is a week's salary for most folks. We were told that for 40.000 fcfa ($80), we could get a whole bottle of whiskey and bottles of soda for mixers- this was the "BIG DEAL". We didn't want to leave, so all of us pitched in for the bottle. It was at this point that I discovered I like J&B whiskey.

Since it was a Wednesday night, there weren't a whole lot of other folks there (a few heavy hitters and foreign nationals and their "girlfriends") so we took a good chunk of the dance floor and took turns going to the DJ to request music. Somewhere just before dawn, we returned to the hotel for a couple hours of sleep.