Thursday June 16th, 2011

Wow, where to begin.

Fifteen days ago I was in a hotel in Philadelphia. Now, I’m laying in my bed sweating in Bafia, about two hours north of the capital city Yaounde (there should be a little French accent thingy over the e),in central Cameroon updating you all on my travels. So much has happened these last two weeks, I hope I can recall the majority of it so you can live vicariously through my size 12 font.

Philadelphia was a whirlwind of greetings, icebreakers, and paperwork. I thought more medical information, i.e. shots and how to avoid malaria, would be involved, but it was more about how you are going to integrate into your community, what we all were fearing going into this giant question mark, and some of the reasons why we had dropped what we were doing to travel across the world and try to make a difference. All of my fellow trainees had a story, a reason, and so much more. I have thoroughly enjoyed meeting everyone and getting to know the other people crazy enough to hop on a plane with an 80 lb luggage limit (which I was nowhere near and not on the lighter side) and a belief that we are involved in something bigger than any one of us.

After the 5 hour staging session, most of us went out to grab one last delicious American meal before we were forced to consume monkey brains. I had a $30+ steak (Thanks Peace Corps) and enjoyed every fan-freaking-tastic bite. I was quite sad to not be able to finish (my friends and family will know how much of a rare occurrence this is for me.  I am usually the “garbage can” that others pile food on because I refuse to let it go to waste) my entire steak and with no mini-fridge at the hotel I had to cut my ties. Most of us then headed to the sports bar to grab an adult beverage before our yellow fever vaccination in the morning. Had a delicious Philly Pale Ale while I was there, couldn’t tell you the name, but if I ever find myself at that Hampton Inn again I’m pretty sure I could wander around and find our watering hole. Nate and I night capped with a dip in the pool and the hot tub when we considered the closest thing to a hot tub in Cameroon would be some malaria infested standing water. 

The next day they pumped us full of some yellow fever vaccination and plopped us on a bus to JFK airport to begin our journey to Cameroon. One of my fellow trainees got sick when we got to the airport, and many have followed suit in country unfortunately, so I at least knew I wouldn’t be the first to worship the porcelain god out of my training group. No knock on her though, NY traffic was moving like a geriatric ward and we were stuck on the bus for awhile.

I was hassled by TSA for the second time in as many days when moving through security. I should preface that story with what happened to my while trying to depart from Columbus, OH for Philly. So I’m going through the full body scan thing and of course I forget to take my wallet out of my back pocket. So after I put the little circle above my head while they scan me I realize I forgot to take my wallet out. Mr. TSA puts on his best “You must be a terrorist face” and asks me if I have anything in my back pocket.  I comply telling him yes, that I forgot to take my wallet out of my back pocket. “Okay well you’re going to have to come with me. I’m going to frisk you with the back of my hands.” Mr. TSA gives me a light butt massage and asks me to take my wallet out. I oblige. He then proceeds to put some kind of chemical on my hands and run then under some kind of computer scan apparently checking for bomb residue? I don’t mind the whole ordeal and know he is just doing his job, I just found the whole ordeal quite comical.

Back to JFK. So I take off my shoes, take out the variety of stuff in my pockets including my wallet, and place it all in their tidy little bins. Well after what seemed like 5 mins my stuff finally comes through the scanner. First guy comes out saying we have to check your bag, come over when you get all of your stuff. Second guy comes up with the rest of my stuff and says we have to check this. I respond that his colleague has the rest of my belongings and we can join him at their little inspection station. They go through my two bags, dump the water out of my water bottles and unpack all of my “neatly” packed belongings. Not as happy to go through this security check as I was the first. Regardless, I make it through and head to the food court to grab a bite with the rest of my PCT (Peace Corps Trainees, they use a shit ton of acronyms around here so prepare for those).

The flight to Brussels was quite hilarious because we were all spread out over the plane but Brussel Sprouts (what I’ve decided to call Brussels natives) kept asking if they could switch seats to sit by their acquaintances so pretty soon we were all pretty much sitting together again. Slept a little on the plane but not enough to counteract the jet lag I would soon be feeling.

In Brussels, I pulled a Clark Kent and switched out of my Bob Marley tee and gym shorts to some requited biz-casual attire. Definitely not as comfortable for flight number two. Did get some free booze though so I think it was a fair trade off.  Even got some ice cream on said flight, quite possibly the last ice cream I will be having for the next 27 months L. When we finally landed I had butterflies in my stomach. I had known I was going to Cameroon for the past five months, but you can only imagine what it will be like until you actually get there. My first impression was the red dirt and the abundance of trees as we touched down. 

We walked down the steps of the airport to see our Country Directory LaHoma waving a big Peace Corps flag with a coat hanger smile on her face. We went to collect our bags and met Kristina and Ben, two PCVs that were our hosts for the time being in Yaounde. I managed to spill about half of the giant 1.5L water bottles we were given all over me within 3 mins of waiting for our bags. Got a few scowls from airport workers but luckily it was as hot as an oven in there and my pants were dry in about 10 mins. Well dry until I started sweating profusely, of course. We managed to get everyone’s bags, except Nate’s sadly but it was returned to him down the road, and loaded up on a bus with “Super Amigo” on the side. My kind of bus.

On the bus ride, Ben was enlightening us on all things Cameroon. From mango flies to street meat we got a fast crash course on what our next 27 months might contain. I appreciate him being open with us while we grilled him for the hour or so bus ride. When I wasn’t listening to Ben I was glued to the window looking out at this beautiful and at times poverty-stricken country I would call home for the next two years. I felt like I had landed on the moon no joke. Small town boy from Ohio didn’t see anything like this near the farmland. Which is also exactly why I came to see what is out there on this big ol’ planet we call Earth. 

We made it to the hotel, got our roomies for the next few days, and carried all of my sh!+ up four flights of stairs. After dropping our bags off we quickly returned to the dining room to have a quick dinner, meet some of our trainers, and take our first batch of malaria prophylaxis. I gotta admit I was having a lot of anxiety that first night. I didn’t feel hungry at all and just had a sick feeling in my stomach. I know I was just feeling a little freaked out as my nerves settled throughout dinner. Other trainees French levels were way higher than mine I quickly discovered so I’m sure that lead to some of my discomfort. Luckily we were quickly filled in on our one beer allotment which I took advantage of to help settle me down before bed. I should also inform you the “normal” size of a Cameroon beer is around a 32 oz/er so I felt a little more endeared towards the Cameroonians right away!

Hotel Jouvence was a blast, it felt more like vacation than actual work to be honest. We had limited sessions with a lot of downtime and were allowed to go explore the city, granted we took an above adequate French speaker in case we had to converse with anyone. Needless to say I was not said French expert! We got 3 delicious meals a day, got to bond some more among the group, and got to watch a Cameroonian Nat’l Football match (Sorry America that’s what it’s called over here) even though they lost. Also, witnessed an amazing traditional African dance. They moved their bodies in ways I wouldn’t think possible and got everybody up to dance at the end. It was an incredible few days and a good segway into the heatfest that is Bafia, where I am currently. 

Week 2 of training will be wrapping up this Saturday. My French has made big strides (even though I tested into Novice Low, sorry Frenchie), but I still have a long way to go. The education program finds out their posts next week so I am excited about that. The days are very long here and they throw a lot at us, but I am doing my best to take everything in and putting in as much as possible. We talk about bowel movements over here possibly more than any other topic, and that includes French. You wouldn’t understand until your body is trying to adjust to the craziness we are going through.

 So far I’ve played soccer with some local kids, ran some hills in Bafia, and played basketball with baby Tim Duncan and baby David Robinson. I’m not lying these dudes were dunking with ease. I think they saw skinny white guy and just put me with the twin towers which I gladly accepted. Stroked a few threes and held my own despite the language barrier. The ball speaks universal tongue. Never got to throw alley oops to anyone back in the OH that is for sure. OSU needs to offer these two  scholarships no joke.

I have had many highs and lows already in my two weeks in Africa. Being my first time out of the country, I have gotten homesick a lot already. I miss my family and friends tremendously. I love meeting new people and getting to know my new friends here in country, but it doesn’t take away the fact that I miss home. It will always be home to me regardless if I am living at 800 Rogers or on a dirt path in Bafia. I would also like to add that my homestay family has been amazing to me so far. My homestay father’s name is Mefire Samuel and my host brother’s name is Landry. They have both welcomed me with open arms and I appreciate that tremendously. I was incredibly nervous coming in and they have helped to ease that anxiety despite the language barrier. 

I want to thank all of you that have been texting or calling. It is great to hear your voice or read your  messages while I am somewhat on my own over here. Mom and Dad and the rest of the fam, I miss you guys like crazy, but I am doing my best to integrate over here and make you guys proud. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you guys in my life. I’m sure I have left some details out and for that I apologize but I think I have caught you guys up substantially and I hope to post with more consistency. It is hard to do in Bafia, where having power is not always even guaranteed. I am going to save this to my flash drive and hopefully upload it on Saturday when we are “supposed” to have Wi-Fi at the training house. Thank you all for reading and again I’d just like to say that I love you all back home. Until next tim mes amis (my friends, probably grammatically incorrect)

MMM