Mid-Service, Breast Milk and Mentholatum

Saturday, September 1^st, 2012

So that whole updating regularly throughout the summer thing was a bit of a flop huh? My apologies. Part of the reason is probably that life here now just doesn't seem as weird to me now where I feel like I have to run to the laptop and tell everybody back home. Part of the reason is that I got out of the habit of writing blogs when my laptop got fried so I need to get back in the swing of that. Another part is just laziness. It's been much easier lately to watch a movie, read a book, go play basketball or go grab a beer to unwind than try and put my thoughts to words. I do feel like it helped my mental health a lot during training though so I am going to try and be better at writing down things, even if it doesn't turn into a blog post. But hey, we're all here so let's get this shin dig started...

June was a great month in my Peace Corps service. Some of the Littoral (my region) volunteers decided to make our regional project a 10 day kid's camp in Ntolo, a small village just outside of Nkongsamba, which is where those beautiful waterfalls are that my parents and I visited if you've seen the pictures. My trek into camp was pretty sketchy. I got dropped off at the market where the other PCVs who were already there told me I should drop. It was raining and I hadn't eaten much at this point so I decided to get some ndole and a beer at a small diner across the road. After my early dinner, I put on my rain jacket and asked the locals at the bar which way the Centre Social de Ntolo was to make sure I was heading in the right direction. I tried to flag down a moto but when it's raining this is not always a simple task and the price is usually increased. I waited for about 20-25 mins on the side of the road with no luck so I decided to walk for a bit and see if I could find a spot where motos were waiting. During my walk I encountered an old man walking the opposite direction. We exchanged greetings and passed each other. Not really knowing where the hell I was I asked him if he know where Centre Social de Ntolo was. He said yes and that I had just past it. So I walked with him for a few minutes to a dirt road that he said would lead me to the Centre. I thanked him for the help and he told me it's not a far walk only about 50 meters. I started the trek getting some odd looks from the people in the houses along the road, wondering why this white man with the giant hiking pack, filled with every football, basketball, and frisbee I had in my possession since I plotted to be the fun sports/recreation counselor, was walking down their road. I dodged the trenches and mud puddles as best I could but the road wasn't up to American standard you could say. I was slipping and sliding all over the place. At one point this nice silver Range Rover passed and as I stepped to the side of the road to let them through I was hoping they would open the door and ask to give me a lift. No such luck. They didn't floor it and cover me in mud either though so I'd say it went 50-50. I encountered some others walking along the road as well. One boy offered to walk with me to the centre social but I declined after making sure it was still just up the road. After a half hour thinking I had to be close I came across another 2 guys walking down the road. They said that I was, just another 50 meters and I was there. Is 50 meters just the standard distance that you tell somebody regardless if you know or not in this place? After another 30 mins or so and just before complete nightfall set in I finally made it to the social centre. The kids were very welcoming and I think some of the boys were happy to see a guy since all of the other counselors were female PCVs. I ate a 2^nd meal of spaghetti, watched some kids play UNO, and eventually crashed like a rock. The camp went pretty great I would say. We covered reproductive health, environmental education, life skills, gender roles, money management and many other topics. I can't remember the total number of kids there but somewhere around 40 sounds about right. They enjoyed asking me questions about my life back home, my tattoos, etc. I wasn't able to stay the entire time as some PCVs were flying out of the airport in Douala and needed a place to stay close by so they could make their flight in time but I was generally sad to leave the kids behind.

June was great for another reason because at the end of the month a lot of my training group came back together in Yaounde for our Mid-service Check up. Basically a teeth cleaning and a physical or discuss any health problems we may have had. Oh, and we all had to poop in a cup. Most of them were then transported in brown paper bags so you really wanted to make sure you didn't brown bag it for lunch that day. I somehow had no cavities even with all the candy I usually request in care packages but I also think they didn't check too thoroughly. Dr. Henize in Bucyrus is gonna prove whether or not I am correct when I come home this winter. It was good to see a lot of friends that are too far away for me to visit. I also brought the PS2 for this week of debauchery so a lot of Mortal Kombat and Madden 2012 was going down as well. To my knowledge, Eriika was the first to do a fatality, for those of you who know what that is, in this country so props to her.

July 4^th was a blast as well. Thanks to the Chesterfields for sending me some awesome Amurrica gear to represent the stars and stripes. It was pretty much acknowledged that I was the best dressed at the party. Ironic since I also won Worst Dressed in training. We bought a bunch of brats, beef, and hot dogs and I was grill master for awhile until I passed the torch (tongs) on to the next. The night was filled with dancing and condom water balloons. Most people enjoyed the first part, not so much the second except for those of us doing the tossing. We also had our fantasy football draft this month. Feelin' pretty good about my team again this year. I am the defending champion so gotta defend my honor. I'm thinking I need to get some type of sweet machete trophy made back in the states that will be kept by that year's champion. As we get older, I can see a lot of wives refusing to allow the FFB trophy to be the centerpiece of the mantle. That's gonna be in my pre-nup. I rounded out the month by visiting another volunteer to play some basketball and winning my first ever game of Settlers of Catan. If you don't know that board game, prepare to learn when I return.

August was the last month I had before school started back up so I pretty much just took it easy. Made a beach trip to hang out with some other PCVs, looked at some of the pictures from the Bratwurst Festival, and followed some of the preseason NFL games. It's been raining pretty much every day so I've become a true Cameroonian refusing to go out until it's nothing more than a slight drizzle.

One travel story you might enjoy: I was riding a long bus back to the capital next to 2 women and 2 small children. Somehow I always manage to placed next to a gigantic mama overlapping onto myself and my seat or next to screaming infants. The woman next to me was breastfeeding most of the trip. I've got no qualms with that. The problem I had was with her digging her elbow into my ribs every time she did it. So I would shoot a glance over to see why I was being impaled, see said boobage, and try to squirm to a comfortable position. I also remembered how another volunteer has been shot in the face with breast milk accidentally so I tried to steer clear of the splash zone.

I came down with a pretty bad cold by the end of my trip back to post, but luckily I met a very nice lady at the agence who said she was a pharmacist and gave me some mentholatum to rub inside of my nose that finally let me breathe and clear my sinuses for a bit. She didn't want anything for it and also made sure my bags got marked correctly for the bus before we left. It's easy to get discouraged and angry when a Cameroonian overcharges you for something or won't stop hassling you because you are white but, in my experience, for every 1 Cameroonian that wants to derange you there are 10 Cameroonians willing to help you or take care of you and make sure you get to where you are going safely.

School “starts” next week but all that means is that the students are going to start showing up to pay fees and it actually won't start with any regularity until a week or two after that. I'm hoping this year goes better than last, but all I can do is my best and go from there.

I also want to say thank you to each and everyone of you out there that contributed to my fundraiser to get computers for my school. As of now I have 12 computers with LCD monitors, which should last longer and are more power efficient, and some change left over. There are still more donations coming in so I believe that number will even grow larger. I original goal was for 10 computers and we have already passed that. The most recent update said that we had raised about 60% of the funds for the entire shipment of 200 computers so I'm hoping that it will arrive in the next few months. I still plan on trying to paint one wall with all of the names of people that donated to the cause so you all can be recognized and remembered for your generosity and also so that my students can see that people who are complete strangers to them are willing to give hard-earned money in the hopes that these students can better themselves and their lives. The idea of the “ugly American” who only cares about his or herself still exists in the world, but part of the reason I am here is to change that notion that we are all like that.



I think I posted this on Facebook when Sargent Shriver passed away but I read an article about him recently and thought it was worth mentioning again:
“No matter how many bombs we drop, no matter how skillfully our soldiers fight, we are not responding to the ultimate challenge until we show the world how and why we must all learn to live in peace—until peace becomes the only permanent alternative to war.
“Peace is much more than the mere absence of war. Peace requires the simple but powerful recognition that what we have in common as human beings is more important and crucial than what divides us.”



My neighbors just brought me over some herro and cous cous (green veggie stuff soaked in palm oil and a giant white glob that resembles playdough, I can't taste anything right now though so it should be delicious) that is pretty messy and I need to eat with my hands so I think it's time to bid farewell. Again, sorry for the absence between posts. I'm not making any promises, but I will try and be more active on here. It's nice to hear that people are still asking my parents about the blog and when I will post again so thank you to those of you that still care.



The Buckeyes open the season today so GO BUCKS!
MMM

My triumphant return...

Wednesday, May 30^th, 2012

“...Is there anybody out there?”

Here I thought a month was a long time between blog posts. Thanks to my fantabulous parents, I am now back on the grid. I'm thinking of sacrificing a broken computer at my school to the computer gods so this Toshiba makes it through my time remaining. The school year is over and I'd be lying if I told you I didn't do the Carlton happy dance once I was done. I'll try and give the highlights of each month since my last post.

October- The highlight of Oct. was the Halloween party I went to. The theme was characters from the LMFAO Party Shuffle video. I chose the dancing Jesus. As some of you saw in 2009, I make a pretty convincing Almighty. I was lacking the stigmata, crown of thorns, and long locks, but I got to wear a 2pac chain and grow out a mountain man beard so I think I broke even. We know how to get down in Cameroon exemplified by our Jell-O wrestling tournament. It was actually more of a red sticky water tournament since the last batch was still steaming and managed to melt the rest of the chilled Jell-O. The championship came down to an American vs. a Cameroonian, but ended in a tie before they killed each other.

November- Turkey Day, minus the turkey, was pretty awesome. Killed my first chicken. Learned how to pluck and gut, which I have since forgotten since not practicing. Ate lots of deliciousness. Thought I'd be bummed to not be with my family, but was happy to be distracted in the company of good friends. Hiked and swam in my first waterfall. It was The Game that weekend so I also posed for a pic with arms extended in the Ohio O that a friend from the University of Florida was not too eager to take. Also, hiked to another waterfall in a different region, but was a little shallow for swimming. We still got in it regardless. Will definitely have schistomiosis (sp?) by the end of my service. Google it.

December- This was about the point where I decided that instead of getting frustrated over trivial matters I'd do my best to try and enjoy each and every day here since this will all be over before I know it. I've not always accomplished that, but I've come a long way. I went to a local cultural festival in early December called the Mpo Festival for the local people of Edea. There was a stage for traditional music groups to play and the place was packed. It felt like a music festival in the states. I left right before a semi-truck lost control and drove into one of the thatch walls around the festival, but no one was killed luckily. This month also contained what PC calls In-service Training (IST). My entire training group came back together for a week at a resort in Limbe, one of the two beach cities here in Cameroon. It was great to see some friends that are multiple days away from me, not necessarily in distance, but in travel time it takes to get there. We were applauded for our attentiveness throughout the week (Not you Rob) and went out with a bang our final night at the resort. I'll leave it at that. Christmas was also great. A lot of us got together and had a Feliz Navidad complete with delicious Mexican food. Some of us also went to a festival called Yao Fete. Long story short, we almost incited a riot due a drunk security guard that decided what we were gifting him was not good enough, but it's a better story in person. New Years found us popping bottles of cheap champagne and wine on a stoop. Who needs a giant, descending ball?

January- “Back to school. Back to school, to prove to Dad I am not a fool.” Took awhile to get back into the school routine, but eventually I was back at it. I found the local basketball court and a group of guys that play 3x a week so I was stoked. I was also anxiously looking forward to my parents visiting in March. Can't think of much else that happened this month.

February- Youth Day was in Feb. and school was pretty much non-existent with cultural planning, dances, etc. A store close to the PC house in the capital had a wine sale for youth day. Seems pretty accurate around here. Finally sampled some termites and they were actually delicious. The right balance of crunchy and chewy. Coming to a Super Bowl party near you.

March- The Blenda in Bamenda. I don't feel like writing it up for the umpteenth time, but may write a longer blog about it down the road. Long story short, got a couple wounds, dished out my fair share of punishment, and still breathing so that's all that matters. The month finally came and the Millers descended on Cameroon. My mom wrote a great article for our local paper with the highs and lows of their trip. We've got plenty of stories from that trip so catch me in person some time and I'll give you the unedited version of most of it.

April- Another year older. I saw my parents off (after getting to spend an extra unexpected night with them and a battle to get them out of Africa) and celebrated with some friends in Yaounde. Managed to lose my ID card and personalized money clip in the wee hours of the morning. A good time was had by all I'd say.

May- Finished up the school year. Saw a friend of ours from France off after he spent a year here. Next month I'll get together with some other Education PCVs to have some medical/dental checkups and probably consume a beer or two. Sorry that there wasn't too much detail in this blog, but I'm going to try and get back into the swing of updating this regularly on my adventures in Cameroon. It is a bit harder now as things that seemed so strange to me before, I don't bat an eye at these days. It's amazing what the human spirit can endure and get used to. I never thought I was gonna survive a month here, but here I am a year later. It hasn't been easy, but the friends, now like family, I have made in country and the family and friends supporting me back home have helped me come this far. I look forward to seeing what year two brings and to seeing a lot of you out there in about 6 months. I need to start making my list of places to go and things to eat back in Amurrica. Five Guys Burgers and Fries haunt me in my sleep.

Special shout out to Mrs. Judith Greene! Thank you for staying interested in my service over here and giving my Dad some extra cash for us to enjoy. It's been awhile, but I'm gonna do my best to post regularly throughout the summer.

Until next time.

Cameroon 2 Computers 0

Sorry to all of you that have been waiting for the next installment of my magical mystery tour. The laptop I brought with me died in November. I'd had it for 5 years and didn't expect it to make my whole journey, but I was hoping to get more than six months out of it. My cousin Chris was generous enough to loan me his laptop, same model, so I could hopefully swap hard drives and it would be like having my old laptop again. Unfortunately, that laptop only lasted about a week. IDK if it is the climate, humidity, or what that is taking my laptops down with a vengeance. My parents are amazing and are bringing me another laptop when they come to visit in March so that will probably be when my next extended post will be. I am happy and loving life these days, I hope the same for you.

The Boy in the Fish Bowl...because The Man in the Fish Bowl just doesn't have that ring to it

Wow, has it really been a month since my last blog? I guess time flies when your day consists of wash (if the water is running), teach (if your students can understand you), repeat. I am sure to have some brain flatulence along the way, but I will try to recall this last month as best I can.

The first few weeks were spent adjusting to my new city. I walked around a lot trying to get a visual layout of the city, find where the cold beer was, and figure out which way led back to my apartment. Probably in that order too. I was lucky enough that Greg, the PCV in Edea before me, had left my house pretty well stocked so I didn’t need to look for too many necessities right away. I still have yet to buy a TV, but so far I haven’t missed the bad music videos and trashy soap operas that were rampant in Bafia.

The neighbors to my left are Anglophone and I am quite glad about that. Not that I don’t want to practice my newly acquired French skills, but sometimes it is nice to just come home and communicate with someone else without an enormous amount of effort on both sides. Even if they say that I am “rapping” when I talk too fast in my American English.

So the first few weeks were all about getting used to Edea. I quickly became friends with the neighbor boy, Treneo (pronounced Rahn-yo), who named my apartment the “House of Musique” because I was “always” playing music from my laptop or iPod. Anymore though, he’s the one that runs the batteries all the way down on my iPod ever since he discovered there were games he could play while listening to music. At first, he only liked to listen to the one Michael Jackson I had in my iTunes, “Billie Jean”, but he’s discovered an Avett Brothers song he likes along with a few others. Unfortunately, he’s also discovered which is my bedroom window and when I don’t come to his knocks at the front door he comes to the bedroom window and yells until I respond, usually with “I’m sleeping Treneo, Come back later!”

They told me that school would start for the administration on August 29^th and that the first day of school for teachers was September 5^th. What that really meant was that students would start coming to ENIEG to pay their school fees throughout the week and the end of the week we’d have staff meetings where teachers seemed to yell and complain a lot while the admin just smiled. A few of the Anglophone teachers made their comments in English so I was able to understand a little better than the French fragments I had been picking up otherwise.

My first day on the job was pretty bad. They couldn’t understand me, I couldn’t understand them. They laughed at my pronunciation, I got flustered. I started doubting my ability to actually be able to teach my students again, but by the end of the week I knew that I had improved somewhat and that’s really all I can ask for. People in the states go to school for 4+ years to become a teacher, I had 3 months. Will I make mistakes? Sure will and probably a lot of them. Will I like teaching every day? Sure won’t and probably a lot of days. But, I made a commitment to come to Cameroon and try to make a positive difference in the lives of the people that I interact with and knew it wasn’t going to be cupcakes and rainbows all the time. Optimism goes a long way over here if you can’t tell.

In case I had forgotten or become temporarily color blind, the locals have been kind enough to remind me that I am “le blanc” every chance they get i.e. while I’m walking by, on the back of a moto, or eating a meal. I try not to let it bug me. It’s more annoying than anything. I knew that I would be in a fish bowl, everyone constantly looking at you, and tried to mentally prepare myself, but it is pretty much impossible until you experience it firsthand. If it is a kid, I usually just smile and wave because they don’t know any better. If it’s a teen or adult I usually call them “black man” in the local language. They get a kick out of whitey speaking the native tongue. They also call me Jesuit (Jesus) a lot because of my beard. At first I got a kick out of it, but the novelty has worn off of it too. For a very religious country it seems pretty blasphemous. A beard shaving is in the near future, but I’m kind of getting a kick out of seeing how many creatures can find residence inside. Actually, a sense of humor is how I survive here with some optimism sprinkled in.

I’ve also had a few maintenance problems with my house already. The cable that ran from the water pipe to my toilet was constantly leaking and I figured I was probably going to be paying for more water than I was actually using. Doing my best Handy Manny impersonation, I grabbed some pliers and tried to tighten the bolt connected to the wall at the end of the loose cable. Apparently, I’m not a toilet technician or whatever is the politically correct term nowadays for a plumber. Somehow, I managed to break the bolt/washer thing when I tried to tighten it, disengaging the cable from the wall and the water line. Water began to spray, no maybe jet is a better word, into my bathroom like I had just ran into a fire hydrant. I tried reconnecting the cable, plugging the hole, catching the water in a bucket. Nothing was helping. Luckily, my neighbor was home and I yelled for his help. He saw the problem and was smart enough to go and turn the water to my place off outside. In my defense, I had no idea where the kill valve is so that was not an option when I was feeling like Captain Blackbeard in a couple inches of water. At least this time when my place flooded none of my electronics got wet like in Bafia. I gave him some CFA and he went and bought a new line and a stopper for the water line to the toilet so we could at least turn the water back on for the shower and sink until it got fixed. They took way longer than I would’ve liked to fix the toilet, probably at least two weeks. During that time frame how did I flush you ask? I filled up a bucket with shower water and dumped it down the toilet. It was like Bafia 1A and it did not work as well as you might imagine. I am happy to report that the toilet is fixed and the guy even managed to get the key working into my outside “kitchen”.  So far I’ve only made a fish dinner one time, but that was an accomplishment in itself. This ain’t McDonalds people, you cook the entire fish: head, fins, skin and all. I fed Treneo and neither of us have become ill as of this writing, so chalk that one up as a success.

My other maintenance problem was a bit more Posh Corps. My mini-fridge and air conditioner in my room were not working. I know, I’m really roughing it over here right? It cost a bit more than I would’ve liked, but the technician that worked at ENIEG came to my apartment and fixed both in one day. In fact, he worked so long into the night that when he came out and sat in one of the chairs while waiting for the fridge to cool down he dozed off. Multiple times. Only until I played a 17 minute live version of “The End” by The Doors, where Jim Morrison is shrieking into the mic, did his eyelids flutter. Seeing my cue I asked him if everything was good with the fridge. He said it was, but went back and fiddled with it some more. He then came out and declared that the fridge was running, but he was too tired to drive back to Douala and wanted to stay the night and leave in the morning. I didn’t want to make the guy drive back and flip his car on the way home so I cautiously agreed. While I was “preparing” the couch for him to sleep, I managed to take all my valuables to my room to be locked away with me. It’s not because he was Cameroonian. It’s because I didn’t know the guy from any other random person I came across on the street. I just thought I’d remove that temptation either way. He had been very kind to me and also gave me a good deal on the labor, I think anyways, so I would have had a hard time telling him to hit the road. My belief in my fellow man may burn me someday, but not this night. He left in the morning without a problem. Fridge is still running great, but A/C seems to be on the fritz again. Hopefully, next week he will return to fix it minus the slumber party.

The presidential election for Cameroon is next month on Oct. 9^th. Last week, I saw my first “election rally” for Paul Biya, the current president, and my first election poster, for another guy running. It proclaimed he was the man for the situation. I am interested to see how this all shakes out.

That was my first month, more or less. Every day brings a new challenge and a new laugh. I miss all of you back home and will try to update with more regularity in the future. My water is currently not running, so enjoy that American plumbing.

MMM

Monday, August 22, 2011

You think you’ve seen it all in Cameroon until you’re on the way to the bank on the back of a moto and a grown man is completely naked walking down the middle of the street in the rain. C’est la vie ici. (That is life here)

Rewind. As you can tell from the French knowledge bomb I just dropped, I made my language level. Somehow, they consider me an Intermediate High French speaker. I won’t argue ;). Another great thing about Peace Corps is that they will pay up to 15,000 CEFA a month for me to continue getting tutored in French, which I am gladly going to pursue. I’m conversational in French, but I have a long way to go. I’m sure my student-teachers will let me know that next month when classes begin.

So I’ve become an official Peace Corps Volunteer. You think after you jump through all the hoops and examinations of the application process you’re in right? Wrong, you’re just a peon until you survive training. Well my friends, I did it. Questioned myself a lot along the way, but glad I stuck it out. [Insert cheesy cliché about adversity in life.] 

After the ceremony we had a lunch with our host families. They got certificates of appreciation for hosting us dirty Americans. In a truly Gary Miller-esque moment, we didn’t have a bottle opener at our table for the beer. So what does host dad Mefire do? Puts the cap on the side of a table and slams his hand down so the lip pops off. It sounded like a gunshot and most people turned in our direction. I felt like you would have done the exact same thing big guy J.

I went back to house with my host family (Mefire and Landry) and hung out with them until Mefire fell asleep on the couch. I ate my first few pieces of sugar cane. Delicious. It’s funny, the whole time during training I couldn’t wait to be out of the house and answering to myself, but when the day finally came it was bittersweet. I knew I wouldn’t be seeing them for awhile. I chilled out on the porch with Landry for a bit and shot the breeze. Mefire finally woke up and I went with him to his office so he could grab his bag. His female co-worker said she wanted to be wife and go back to America with me. Damn this irresistible charm, it’s a blessing and a curse.

We rented out the Hotel New Palace in Bafia for our post-swearing in party before we would all depart for post the next morning. We drank, we laughed, and we danced. We had a “high school” superlatives form that most of us filled out before the party. Technically, I won Best Beard and Worst Dressed based solely on my selection of a tye dye polo as business casual. It’s like a mullet. It says I can be serious, but I also like to party. Okay, no one with a mullet actually gets taken serious, but I’m a tye-dye supporter and it’s got a collar so it counts. Everyone had to give an acceptance speech as well. Mine went something like this, “Screw you all, I look damn good.” For best beard we were trying to share the superlative wealth that night and a lot of people became infatuated with the seven red whiskers growing out of Preston’s chin so he took home the honor.

The next morning most of us did the zombie walk to the training house to make sure our stuff was getting packed on the right bus. We would later find out for some, it was not. The Hangover Breakfast Special in Cameroon: an Oreo from Danielle and a piece of chicken Christian’s mom had given him for his trip. Best stale Oreo I ever ate.

We said our goodbyes, gave some dap snaps (the Cameroonian handshake is a complex beast that I will introduce to all of you when I return), and were bouncing along on a bus in no time. I got a window seat and we actually travelled all the way to Yaounde with just Volunteers, a first for us. 

My travel plans were to stay at the case (a transit house for PC Volunteers passing through Yaounde) that night and head to Edea the next day. Hot showers and fast(er) Internet? I’m game. Unfortunately, I never did take a shower there because I had no idea where I had packed my towels. I actually only packed boxer briefs in my backpack so I was still wearing my PC paigne shirt and shorts from after swearing in. This continued the following day as well. 

Enough about my lack of cleanliness. That night a few of us staying at the case went to the Hilton Happy Hour and a pizza place. For about five hours it felt like I had taken a rocket ship back to a developed country. I mean, the Pizza Roma had a Playstation 3 and 3 flat screen TVs at this pizza place. Where the hell was I!? The only game was Soccer Euro Tour 2008, but I wasn’t bitchin. I would have played Space Invaders if that was our only choice. We had to teach them how to charge the controller since it was dead, but we got a little footie in as we devoured four pizzas. There weren’t the biggest pieces so four was necessary. Did I mention the scale at the case said I weigh 170 lbs now? If that thing is even fairly accurate, I’ve lost between 15-20 lbs. Not really sure where seeing as I still have my beer belly, but I’m not bitchin’. I don’t think I’ve weighed that since high school and was up to 200 lbs this past winter. I thank you Wii Fit for telling me to get my ass in gear.

So after a night at the case they woke us up and told us it was time to head out. My driver dropped me off at the bus station and helped me unload all my crap, including a bike. Luckily, the workers at the bus station watched my stuff for me while I waited in line for a half hour to buy my ticket. They said some kids kept coming around eyeing my goods so they kept a look out. Good people.

I managed to make it to Edea with all my stuff somehow. The bus dropped me off on the side of the road in Edea, sounds bad but that’s just how it goes here, and the driver helped me unload. I waited for my community host to show up and figure out a way to get all my stuff to my place. Meanwhile, a nice lady, Anne, across the street at a restaurant told me to bring my stuff over and put it under the roof because it was going to rain. She even waved over some Cameroonian kid to help me bring everything. I gave the kid 100 CEFA for the help and he just laughed and asked if I was American. Wait, you mean Cameroonian wasn’t your first guess? I also realized how hungry I was at this point and ordered the chicken dinner in tomato sauce with rice and a cold beer for my lunch/dinner. Pretty soon Mr. Djame and the director of my school, his last name starts with a T so how about Mr. T for now, showed up and I bought them a beer for bringing a car so I could transport everything to my apartment.

 The naked guy in the street happened today on my way to the bank. I was able to withdrawal the money I needed to buy some stuff for my apartment with the help of some friendly bank ladies. Also, I bought a bottle of gas so I can cook with my stovetop burner and am going back to get my USB Internet key tomorrow and hopefully able to post this little guy. Slowly but surely I am getting my place together. I need more surfaces to put all the stuff I have on. I scrubbed my bathroom with some Ajax pretty good. It’s still not the cleanest, but it’s a far cry from what it was when I got here. It will definitely need scrubbed better by the time Mama gets here, but I’ll have this place sparkling by then. I used the zebra duct tape that Ben, Britney and the kids had given me in my birthday survival kit to make a banner in my bathroom above the tile on the pink walls. My bathroom now looks like that of a thirteen year old girl.

The training chapter has been completed and now the official teaching chapter begins. No more model school, this is the real deal. I am comforted by the fact that I was able to carry on a conversation in French with some people outside of a guns and ammo store while I waited on the rain to die down. I am not comforted by the fact that I was standing outside of a guns and ammo store. 

Sad I wasn’t able to see Sinister Midget rock the Bratfest this year, but am really looking forward to checking out the pics and videos online when I get Internet here. I’ll miss the BF next year as well, but I’m pretty sure I will be home by Bratfest 2013 so get your party pants on by then people.

 Love and miss you all back home,

Max

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Sometimes you’re the fly and sometimes you’re the swatter. Yesterday, I was the fly. I found out that I didn’t make my language level for post. After the first LPI, (Language Proficiency Interview) I moved from Novice Low to Intermediate Mid. After this weekend’s LPI, I didn’t move at all. I felt like a waste of space once I found out, but I’m trying to stay positive. I didn’t really feel like I deserved to be Intermediate High after the interview so this just kind of confirmed my thoughts. Granted, I don’t really think I should be teaching teachers either, but that is a rant for another day. 

I have to get in 20 more hours of French lessons and the head language trainer will schedule another LPI for me. I am almost halfway there already so it looks like I will be taking the next LPI somewhere near the end of next week. I don’t feel like that is enough time, but I’m going to give it my best shot and hope for the best. I think this time they had me so freaked out that about using the proper tense that I just froze up and it seemed like I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m seriously contemplating slugging down a beer beforehand to loosen up the nerves. No, I don’t care if the language interview is at 8AM.

On a brighter note, I got my first set of tailored paigne clothes made. I got a short sleeve short and some sick shorts made to perfection by the deaf brother of one of the fellow trainees. The man knows his stuff. Oh yeah, paigne is the traditional fabric that you buy here to get clothes made from it. Granted, ours was this ugly Peace Corps paigne for the swearing-in ceremony, but it was kind of cool that it had all of the countries in Africa that PC is in. Also, found out that even if we don’t hit out language level that we get to swear in. We just get a letter that says it is contingent upon us completing our language requirement. If I don’t make my level after the next interview, I have to stay in Bafia for an extra two weeks of strictly French lessons every day. I feel like 8 hours of French is kind of like beating my head against the wall so hopefully I won’t have to go through that. If it does happen though, it won’t be the end of the world. I know I’ve only been on this journey for a little over 60 days, but I feel like I’ve faced as much adversity as I have in my life. Life isn’t all cupcakes and rainbows and I wouldn’t want it like that. The rainy days make the sunshine feel that much better.

This will be a short blog post because I’m tired and I want to read for a bit, hit the French books, and go for a run in the morning. Sorry if this little guy felt like a pity party, I really wasn’t going for that vibe. I just wanted to share that I'm taking some punches, bouncing off the ropes, and coming out swinging. Send telepathic French vocab my way.

With love,

MMM