June 22nd, 2011

June 22, 2011

Yeah, that early morning run that was supposed to happen yesterday never took place. Well it did occur, I just didn’t join my comrades. I had also planned on getting up even earlier to try and get a load (and by load I mean soaking my clothes in well water and Cameroonian Snuggle while scrubbing stains with a bar/cube of soap in giant metal bowl) of laundry done. Well, neither of these things happened because I didn’t sleep very well and decided the extra hour and a half of sleep was the way to go. I’ve still got enough undies to last me til I do my next batch. It does need to be done ASAP frankly considering I will be going to Edea for a week this Saturday and need to have enough clean clothes so the current volunteer doesn’t kick me out for stinking up his place. I also heard today my post is one of the hottest places in Cameroon, downer, but that I will supposedly have electricity, Internet, a fairly decent crib, and an hour from the beach! I can roll with the heat if I get to spend my weekends at the beach. When I told my host dad where I was posted he said that I was going to get a girl. After our PC presentation on the rampant amount of HIV in Cameroon and Africa yesterday that proposition just didn’t seem too appealing.

Want to know something else I’m not good at? Ironing. I can already hear your head shaking. You’re thinking Max all you have to do is flatten the shirt out and run the iron over it. Well that is what you would do in America. In Cameroon, you have to keep fiddling with the damn knob because not only does the power in the entire house go in and out but the power in the actual iron decides to turn on and off. Regardless I had been having bad luck with the power going out while trying to iron so my clean clothes had been in a pile in a chair for a few days. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing because if you don’t iron your clothes you are supposed to let them sit for three days after they dry because mango flies like to lay their larva in the damp clothes hanging up and the larva like to burrow into your skin. When you discover said mango fly invader you need to pop it out like a zit. No, I am not making this up. 

To remedy this power problem I decided to turn the iron up towards the higher setting. That way when the power did shut off, it would still stay fairly warm until it came back on. At least that’s what my plan was. What actually happened was that I burnt a quarter sized hole in my Mountain Hardwear Khaki safari-looking short sleeve button down. Looks like that Hardwear wasn’t so hard after all eh? I was bummed at first because it was a comfy shirt, but I’m not losing any sleep over it. The thing is I would still totally rock this shirt in the states. Over here though, even if you smell like ass, as soon as you get a little hole in your clothes or some mud on you the Cameroonians start losing respect for you. Cultural differences my friends. I wouldn’t have even ironed my shirt if my host father hadn’t suggested that I iron my wrinkly shirt before going out. I would much rather smell good and have a small then the opposite, but hey, that is one of the reasons I’m here to discover the way another culture lives. Can’t say I agree with everything over here, but I now at least see the reasoning behind most things. As Westerners we have a tendency to look at the way things are done and say this is wrong or this is weird, but it’s just different strokes for different folks. I’m starting to use clichés so I should end this blog before things get worse. 

Not taking my computer to Edea, but will try to either post from there on a random computer or try and put something up when I get back. Have another language proficiency test tomorrow so send good luck my way. I need to get to an Intermediate High Level, YIKES, to be sworn in as a Francophone Volunteer in August. You probably have no clue what an Intermediate High Level is so I will try and post the description sometime in the near future if I can still find my sheet. I am just starting to be able to understand my French teacher’s accent so hopefully I can figure out what the hell Joe, my language tester, is asking me tomorrow. Love from Cameroon.

MMM

P.S. Aunt Lori and Aunt Kathi I got your letters and picture of Hunter! Thank you so much for taking the time to write me, it was great to read your letters. Still haven't got the letter from Mom, but I'm sure it will make it in due time. I'm surprised how fast the letter from Aunt Kathi made it, it said it was mailed out June 13th. Thanks again and I'll try and write back when I get some downtime!

June 21, 2011

My Kindle is full of rice.

Okay, full of is an exaggeration. It definitely sounds like a maraca when you shake it though. Before you start freaking out Tizzle and L-Train (the beyond generous friends, for those of you readers not familiar with my friend hierarchy, that quenched my reading thirst by gifting me with said e-reader right before I headed out) just know that things could be a lot worse!

I should have prefaced this statement by explaining why my Kindle has multiple grains of rice in it. 

Last Monday, all of my fellow volunteers and I headed to our usual watering hole after a long day of classes. You’d be surprised the kind of therapy a warm 32 oz Cameroonian beer can provide. Anyways, I got a call from my host father and eventually my host brother when I didn’t understand Mefire. I had a hard time understanding them on the phone but, I thought the gist of the convo was that there was some water in the house, which I thought had somehow come from my water filter that I had just filled up that morning. After pretending to comprehend what he was saying, I assured him that I would finish my beer and head back to the house to try and take care of whatever situation was going on. I hung up the phone and went back to my warm Castel.

Pretty soon my host father is at the bar. I’m thinking, “Uh oh, what did I do!?” Again he tells me that there is water in the house and that I need to come home and make sure that everything in my room is okay. It had rained that day so I was thinking a little water had come in through the ceiling or what not and they were worried about my belongings. Fair enough, I slammed down the rest of my boiling beer and headed for the house. 

When I arrived my host brother Landry was entertaining some guests taking all kinds of soggy looking boxes and whatnot out of the house. I told him how I was sorry for not coming quicker I just didn’t understand what they were trying to tell me on the phone. He laughed saying that it was fine and explained to me what had actually happened. Apparently, we have a faucet that doesn’t always work, but when it does water sprays out by the bucket full. Well whoever had used the faucet last had forgotten to shut the valve and nobody was at the house when the faucet decided it wanted to work again. Pretty soon we had about an inch of water on the floor in the house.

So I unlock my door and of course there is about a half inch of water in there. Luckily, or so I thought, I didn’t really have anything on the floor except the big suitcase I had brought and my lockbox with all my crap I didn’t want stolen i.e. electronics. Landry and I used some rags to sop up the water and wring them out in a bucket. I put the suitcase in the closet and it was fine and didn’t even worry about the lock box. It was given to me by Peace Corps, of course it’s waterproof.

Wrong again Max-a-million! On Wednesday, I had to get into my lockbox to grab something, only to discover that the bottom had definitely taken a big batch of water. I lost the amazing journal my bro Ben had gotten me (luckily though I was able to save the first page where he had written me a message before I left. His inscription came from the heart and is something that I will cherish to my grave. I usually read it at least once a day over here because it helps me to not only remember the love and support that I have back home, but also to enjoy this adventure that I am on and make the absolute best of it), the boxes that my iHome and laptop speakers in were water logged, my webcam pouch which contained my webcam felt more like a sponge. Pretty much all of my electronics looked like they took a dip in the pool.

Enter previous stated rice. I rode a moto to the supermarche (again it needs a little accent thingy over the e. Need to find some French letter shortcuts) and proceeded to put pretty much all of my electronics into a giant bag of rice. I am happy to report that so far everything is functioning fine. My digital camera was even able to capture our HIV/STD/Condom use lesson today that I hope to post pictures of at some point. We had a condom relay race. Yeah, I had never heard of one either until here. Of course the Education program won, mad props to Cool Hand Luc and Pristine Christine. I’ve decided it’s okay to make lame jokes and even worse nicknames when you’re about to fall asleep under a mosquito net.

My webcam is the only thing still chillin’ in the rice because it seemed like it still had some moisture on it when I opened it. And it’s not like I can get any kind of decent Internet connection here to Skype you beautiful people back home. All in due time I hope.

Another thing I would like to elaborate on is the bucket bath. Now, remember that I told you that you had to go to the well for pretty much all water needs, besides drinking water. So after you fill up your buckets the real fun begins. Most trainees just have a cup to dip into said bucket and rinse off soap. The ever improvisational Eriika has created a water bottle shower by poking holes into the bottom of her 1.5L Water bottle. I think I might have the best of the bunch though with my plastic tea kettle. It really does funnel the water quite well down your body to get rid of the soap. For those of you that lived with me, made my toaster strudels in the AM, or just knew that I loved taking a nice long shower should understand that this is quite the change for this Bucyrus boy. Quite often the water is pretty damn cold and a pretty good wake up call in the morning. The 6AM runs have definitely made the cold bucket shower feel like a blessing.

I think those are all the things I wanted to cover before talking about what the really important news….I know my post!!!!

I will be in a city called Edea (little slash thing over the second e. If any of you people out there, Chris Michael I am talking to you, know how to do my French letters please let me know) in the Littoral region of Cameroon. It is a Francophone country, meaning that I will be teaching in French. I was pretty much banking on an Anglophone, English speaking, region so this was quite the surprise to me, but I am going to try and do my best and get to the Intermediate High level that I need to achieve to be sworn in. It is definitely going to be a challenge, but I didn’t sign up for the PC to sit around and eat some bon-bons so why not!? I also found out from a current PCV in Bafia that Edea is one of her favorite posts so thank you Heather for lifting my spirits after I wasn’t sure what to think of my post. It is also an hour from one of the main beaches and not too far from the other. She also described it as a clean and well developed city. It doesn’t seem too far from Mt. Cameroon either and I am definitely pumped about hiking that beast at some point. I wish I knew more about Edea, but without having Internet I can’t just google it like I would do to find out anything else in the states. By the time I get to post this I should be able to look it up, but if you find anything online and want to comment feel free to shoot me a text, e-mail, comment, fb msg whatever. I am pumped and nervous at the same time. This weekend we go for our site visit to see where we will be working, who will be working with, the area etc. Ah, I forgot to mention that I will be training primary school teachers in computers. Again, in French…CRAZINESS!!! :D

Aunt Patti and Lara just want to say that I got your guys’ texts and that I appreciated them very much. Love having a way to keep in touch at times when I can’t get on the net and fire off some things through the ol’ Interweb. Sorry I wasn’t able to respond back, trying to conserve my phone credit until the next payday so I will try and send off an e-mail or some kind of correspondence when I can get online. For the time being though, I will answer the questions in your text Aunt Patti.  As of right now, I am okay and don’t need you guys to send me anything yet, but I’m sure that I will be craving a care package sooner than later J I also will know later on what will be the best address to reach me at later on in training so that will help with any mailing issues. I will be about two hours from Yaounde, which is the capital of Cameroon and where PC Cameroon main office is, so that might be the mailbox I will use, but when I know I will relay the information. Yes, my Kindle is still working but I am still reading the book you got me and a story about a PCV in Tanzania currently and have over 25 others on my Kindle so I still have plenty of reading material. I have a hard time justifying reading for pleasure anyways when I have so much work to do with my French. Also, I plan on getting a guitar ASAP over here and trying to master that so I’m all good on the reading front for now but thank you for checking. I could definitely use some OSU coozies for my beers though if you can collaborate on a care package with Mom and Dad since I’m sure I will be hitting them up with some requests sometime in the near future. Anything OSU would be sweet actually, I’m bummed I forgot my buckeye necklace in the states. I’m sure I will come up with more requests down the road, but that is all for now.

Early run tomorrow so I better sign off now. Was just informed Clarence Clemon(s?) from the E Street Band and Ryan Dunn of Jackass have passed away. Hope to hear more cheerful pop culture news next time we converse Mom and Dad ;). Love you all.

MMM

June 17, 2011

Well the power is out again in Bafia so I think I will try and throw in a few other details that I recalled today while mentally editing my blog post:

1.       I have officially eaten bush meat. But Max what is bush meat? In the loosest of terms, bush meat is game that is caught in the bush i.e. jungle and sold. But Max what was the bush meat? It was porcupine my friends, or porcupin (kinda sounds like Porky Pig in French) I gotta admit it was pretty damn tasty. It is kind of like a roast beefy-type chicken. My host family also waited til about half way through the meal to inquire if I knew what the bush meat was. No sickness so far and I would totally eat it again.

2.       Traffic here is completely nuts. No stop signs, traffic lights, lines in the road, NADA! I also think motos, especially in Yaounde, try to see how close they can get to the Americans when they drive by. I have already ridden a few motorcycle taxis in Bafia and it is a blast. You have to wear your official Peace Corps helmet, or you can get sent home, and you have to get on via the left side so you don’t join the “Moto Burn” Club. You also need to pretty much get right up on your driver so it doesn’t throw his balance off. If you ever saw me and Tizzle joy riding on Mom and Dad’s scooters in Bucyrus you will know what I look like on the back of a moto. 

3.       I got some gnarly blisters on Sunday from playing soccer and basketball. I don’t see how it even happened because Dad got me some thick ass socks from the USPS so they could withstand the scrubbing of laundry in Cameroon, but I still got some silver dollar sized chunks of skin hanging off. I’ve been cleaning them pretty good and they are healing up well. I’m going on another run tomorrow morning so might possibly double up on the socks. If not I definitely will Dimanche (Sunday) when we play some more basketball and football.

4.       Getting water for drinking, showering, flushing the toilet is quite the adventure around here. If you need drinking water you have to go to le forage, get the key from some non PC American that locks it up? (Not sure what his story is) Le Forage is not close so you have to haul your giant yellow containers back to your house if you don’t want to boil the cloudy well water. The well water is used for showering, washing dishes and clothes, and other activities I’m sure. To get this you have to take your little bucket and tie a knot with some rope around it. Throw said bucket into well and pull back up.  To flush almost all toilets in Bafia you have to just pour a large quantity of water into the toilet and away your waste goes. Enjoy your plumbing folks.

5.       A lot of Cameroonian men in Bafia are craving some American women. Many of my fellow female volunteers have already been proposed to. One male volunteer was offered a child prostitute already. I actually had an interesting exchange with some guys at the bar yesterday. I had met Marciel (sp?) about a week ago and had talked to him about playing soccer, basketball, whatever.  Well I see Marciel at the bar with some of his buddies and start shootin the breeze with him. Pretty soon his friend is telling me I need to introduce him to some of my fellow volunteers. After I politely decline and say that he needs to talk to them himself, he tells me that he will give me one Cameroonian girl for an American. Again, I decline and say that it doesn’t work like that. He decides that he will offer me TWO Cameroonian girls for one American. Again, I decline and tell him that he’s got to prove to an American girl that he is a good person before he can even begin to think like that. I don’t think he got my point, but it was quite an interesting exchange for me. I feel even more inclined now to look out for my fellow female trainees. Despite this somewhat awkward conversation, the majority of Cameroonians I have encountered have been extremely friendly people and probably think nothing of the sort about Peace Corps females. There are a few bad apples no matter where you go. Gonna try and crash now so I can get up by 6 and go for my run. Never would be up this early in the states, that is a fact. Hopefully I can post this tomorrow. Comment me with any questions you may have or e-mail, I will try to check that tomorrow as well. Need to cancel Groupon before they fill up my entire Gmail. Love you all back home, drink one for me.

6.       My phone number here is 237-70-30-92-31. I think that is how you reach me. Ask my pops for more details if you try and can’t reach me.

MMM

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