Is it ju ju or Ju Ju?

     Bruce the cat, bless his heart, has become a ferocious killing machine. He left a headless bird in a heap of feathers on my second floor. Later Luca found a bloody baby mouse tucked behind some shoes. And dammit, I love him for it, because it means he can double as my protector and I can hopefully one day stop feeding him altogether.
     Two nights ago I opened the front door to discover what looked like a crime scene. There was blood all over the front porch in streaks showing where some hapless animal was dragged back and forth and all around. It was a lot of blood! And it was streaked all over the porch area! Since it was after dark, I decided not to clean it or look for remains until the morning. Instead I just screamed in terror and then locked the door.
    The next morning I went out to try to find the poor victim. I followed the trail of blood left, and right, and left again, and into the corners and tucked-away niches of the courtyard.  But I found no body.
    That night, Luca was telling the other Italians about what happened. "... so it was either the cat or some kind of fetish," he concluded.  In French/Cameroon, a fetish is an item of bad luck or sorcery. For example, people with farms near the side of the road will hang fetishes, indicating that their farm is protected by some voodoo magic, to scare people away from stealing their crops.  I'm sure Luca meant it as an offhand joke, but it got me thinking. Something here doesn't add up. Where was the body of the animal, after all? Anything that could produce that much blood is probably too big for tiny Brucey to eat in one sitting. "Plus," Luca pointed out, "the cat was white as ever without a drop of blood on him." Another good point - if he spent all night terrorizing a poor animal and making a huge mess in my courtyard, why did he remain spotless?
     Now of course, I don't believe in sorcery. But all Cameroonians do. And I do believe that if someone is trying to scare us or perform black magic rituals on our house, that that can't be a good thing. So I thought more and more about the possibility. The gate was open at the time of the attack (not that that would matter to an experienced sorcerer).  When I came home today, I noticed something else: a piece of red string tied to the bottom bolt of my gate. Actually I had half-noticed this weeks ago, and figured a red piece of clothing had gotten caught and lost a thread while I was walking out. But after stopping to think about it, I don't have any clothes that color. Also, tying a red string is a common type of fetish - around your corn stalk or bike means "steal this and you'll be cursed".  Have we been targeted by a sorcerer for weeks and I only just realized?
    Suddenly Lucas's off hand joke seemed like the only possible reality. Someone is trying to curse us. And after considering it, how did Bruce even kill that bird on the second story when there are bars and glass slats on the windows?  He didn't drag it up because there were feathers only in that room. Could this be more sorcery?  Could sorcery have caused the random spontaneous blisters that appeared on my body a week and a half ago with no explanation?  Could it explain why all the produce we buy always seems to rot before we eat it?  Or perhaps why my rosemary seeds never germinated last year? Or where the other earring in that one pair went?
    So was it the cat or was it black magic?  Well, I don't really know. I may never know the explanations for these strange occurences. But I can tell you one thing: I have never before so hoped that I live with a murderer.



*cue X-files theme music*






(The explanation for the title of this entry: "ju ju" refers to all things witchcraft and sorcery and those who control them. It is also, by no coincidence, what Valerie's 16-month-old daughter calls my cat.)

My Interview with the Bilingual Club

I've been doing a bit of work with one of the local high schools, Lycée de Bafang Rurale. The librarian there - a natural teacher who is amazing with the students - came up with a plan for me to come in as a special invitee to speak with the bilingual club, so that they could get a chance to chat with a native English speaker, someone with an accent and mannerisms different from Anglophone Cameroonians.  He also wanted it to be a kind of cultural exchange so they could ask me questions and learn about America and American culture.  I went in today and immediately drew a crowd of fascinated students, who followed me from building to building as I looked for the room we'd be in.

The librarian had told me several times that he was going to be very selective and only allow about 8 or 9 girls to participate, so that it could be a more intimate conversation. But my blanche celebrity status just did not allow this to happen! We ended up with about 30 students in the room, who were encouraged to ask me ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING - to learn about my country and practice English. Well, it turned out to be a ton of fun, because all the students who came actually wanted to learn and practice English. Plus, their curiosity about my culture went way beyond the standard small talk I encounter in village!

Some of the questions they asked, I expected :

• What is your name?
• Where are you from?
• How long have you been in Cameroon?
• Do you have any children?
• Are you married? Will you marry my brother?

Some were a little more interesting:

• Can you tell me about the seasons in America? (Ah, this one made me nostalgic...)
• How is the government structured?
• How are American schools different from Cameroonian schools?

And a couple really made me laugh:

• Why do you Americans like dogs so much?
• Why do you always say "cheese" when you take a picture?

The last one had me cracking up, because I had to explain that we like it when people SMILE for pictures, unlike most Cameroonians who will sternly stare into the camera for every photo op.  

The whole experience was fun for me, but I felt especially touched when the librarian made a little speech to the class about how he wanted them to see me as a role model. "You see how she speaks French and English? You can be like this too! You can be bilingual too! and she is only 23 years old but she has done all these things and come to live here in Cameroon, so hurry up with your studies so that you can also accomplish this much by the time you're 23."  It put a lump in my throat.  I spend a lot of time here feeling unqualified for the teaching I'm doing, undeserving of the "honorable position" I am often given, and like I'm just messing around having fun abroad while my friends are advancing their careers.  He made me forget all that and feel pretty good about what I'm doing. 

At the end of the day, after we ate some rice and drank some juice that the librarian generously offered, we took a group picture and everyone shouted "CHEESE" before breaking into fits of giggles. 

It was awesome.

I didn't completely forget about this blog, I swear!

I haven't updated my blog in a million years for a number of reasons:

• I've been here a year, so if I go to the market, or take public transport, or teach a class, it no longer feels like "OMG," but instead more like "yeah, life". So I don't feel compelled to tell you about eating plantains and koki and cous cous, or riding motos and cramming into bush taxis, or seeing so many green hills and palm trees and banana trees, or doing maybe a really good job of negotiating a price down. 
• I have wifi, so instead of planning ahead for blog entries when I'd have good Internet, I'm just on it every day and don't ever think about it.
• After a little time passes, suddenly the thought of recounting g EVERYTHING from FOREVER seems daunting so I put off the task

         Which is why I'm going to stop telling my every meal and daily activities, and start sharing random anecdotes from life in this wacky country!

First of all, I never officially introduced this guy: 

Bruce and I met at a party in a town about two hours from my house. When I first saw him I thought he was a rat. Well, he turned out to be a super friendly, evidently abandoned kitten that everyone kind of wanted to take home, but only I (in my mourning, reboundy post-Colby state) was crazy enough to actually commit to. During the whole party he sat on my shoulder as we danced and played drinking games and chatted with friends.  Since we shared so many of the same interests, I figured it was meant to be. I crammed him in my purse, zipped it almost all the way, and took him on several long bus rides til we got home and started our happy life together. He's a real sweetie pie and keeps me company and is almost done peeing and crapping wherever he pleases. 

But yeah stuff is still good (see entry: I'm singing in the rain). Bafang is still the best post ever (see entry: Post Announcement). I like my friends, I like my town, I like my students, and I'm feeling pretty good about my work situation between the women's school, youth delegation, and local high school.  I now have not one but TWO awesome roommates (one human, one feline)!  I get to travel! I'm near friends! My small monthly salary is still more than adequate for the cost of living here! Can't complain. 

Listen to these songs

African music is good, and much more like American top 40s and less like Ladysmith Black Mambazo than you might expect. 

Pala Pala - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=KABH9b-UZFk - this song makes me feel a little pala pala every time I hear it
Eminado  - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=HxPqkwahxe0

They're both wildly popular and wildly catchy - I dare you to listen to either and not start dancing!

My family's visit!

Yay!  My family came!  It was really nice to see them and fun to play the role of tour guide. To hear all about their trip in an enthralling play-by-play, check out my dad's site write-up : http://monkeynutproductions.com/Cameroon_2014.htm

And I'll be seeing them again soon if all goes as planned when I come home for Christmas!

I'm Singing in the Rain

            I think it’s a very normal and expected rite of passage for every Peace Corps volunteer to have a dark period.  Well, I’m here to tell you that I’ve seen the light!  In a few previous posts, I alluded to having doubts and struggles without delving too much into specifics.  There were a few months there that I would, unfortunately, categorize as my “dark period.”  Maybe that’s overdramatic – I wasn’t miserable (most of the time), and I wasn’t seriously considering coming back to the US (most of the time), and I didn’t think Cameroon was the worst country in the whole world (most of the time), but now that that period is over and I feel how things are now, I can see clearly how much better they are than before.  Basically it’s a lot like leaving middle school and entering high school. 

            First and foremost: work satisfaction has shot up exponentially.  While I did have some good times teaching English during the school year, I never felt fulfilled.  I was not trained to be a teacher, I don’t think I’m very good at it, and my job was basically done completely alone without any collaboration with my counterpart/boss.  Now everything is different and wonderful and stressful but in a good way.  Let me start from the beginning.

            Some time in December, I was waiting to meet the mayor (this is foreshadowing.  Keep reading.) to introduce myself as part of arriving-in-village protocol.  As I waited, I started chatting with the woman next to me, also waiting for the mayor.  She asked where I was from, and what I was doing in Cameroon.  I told her I was here to work with youth.  “You two should work together!”  The secretary interjected.  She turned out to be the head of the Bafang youth center.  We both noncommittally agreed that yeah maybe totally sometime in the future if it works out we should do something together, and then parted ways without exchanging contact information. (This is the consequence of all the warnings from other PCVs against giving my number away, EVER.)

            Over the following months when I struggled with a lack of motivated work partners, I clung onto her memory as a beacon of hope and infinite potential.  Weekly, I would lament to Lee that I hadn’t exchanged information with this woman and now all I had was a name: Valerie.  An un-checked item lingered on my to-do list for months: find Valerie.

            One day at the end of April, over four months after our initial contact, I went to the youth ministry and saw a familiar face from a distant recollection.  “Valerie!!!”  I rudely cried as soon as I entered the office, ignoring the other important government officials in the room.  “JE TE CHERCHAIS DEPUIS!!!” [I’ve been searching for you forever!].  We exchanged contact information at long last and I made a vague suggestion that we could work together and organize, you know, something, for over the school vacation.  Within two weeks she called me and asked to meet to talk more about this plan.  Initiative on her part?  HUGELY good sign.  We met on a Monday and it was the polar opposite of the stereotypical Cameroonian meeting.  Well, except that she was two hours late.  But she did apologize for that.  And as soon as she did arrive, she pulled out a notebook and pen and started grilling me methodically.  “Okay, first: What is our objective?  And now, what are our sub-objectives?  And how to we plan to accomplish each of these?” I was delighted.  Compare this with most of my meetings with my other counterpart, which went like this:

            Me:  Let’s talk about what we’re going to do during the school vacation.

            Queen: Tu vas les former, non? [You’ll do trainings, won’t you?]

-          Meeting adjourned.

That was Monday.  On Friday we met again and she showed me a five page project proposal which detailed every point we had discussed, provided background information (“Our inspiration for this project is that the youth comprise 34.4% of the population of Cameroon and are more exposed to risks including…”), and even drew up a rough agenda.  I could have died.  And since then, she and Essoh, the other main guy helping with the project, have been consistently awesome.  Long story short: we are organizing a camp and it has been keeping me busy as a bee for the past two months, talking to officials, setting lesson plans, re-scheduling those meetings with officials, going back and waiting at their offices again… and again… and again… releasing radio announcements, and all the rest.  And I am a much happier person when I’m a busier person.  Plus, Valerie has become a good friend who has me over for dinner and teaches me how to cook Cameroonian food.  And she has a super cute daughter and she’s everything I ever wanted in a counterpart.

            The camp started today!  Quick details: it’s two weeks, in the mornings, for ages 10-14.  Today we had 19 kids but we’re expecting more in the days to come.  We are teaching sports, arts and crafts, sex ed, leadership/communication, and gender equality.  It’s free for the kids.  Our current budget is $100, donated by the chief of the village, but there is another $250 with our name on it that is kind of in the air.  This is one of the biggest stressors of the camp.  We went to the mayor’s office mid-June to request funding.  Two weeks later, we went back, but he was in Brazil for the world cup.  Once he returned, we went back every day for a week and a half until we finally met him.  In a 10 minute meeting, he agreed to fully finance our proposed $250 budget.  Now the mandate is written up and missing only his signature, for which we have returned to his office every day for the past two weeks… and we are waiting still.  It’s very frustrating but, c’est la vie.  Fingers crossed that the rest of the camp goes smoothly.           

            Second but equally foremost:  My living situation is awesome.  Before Luca moved in, I was most excited for the “perks” of our roommate relationship: the fridge, the washing machine, the wifi, the TV and cable (recent additions).  The occasional home-cooked Italian meal or guitar lesson.  But it turns out, all that is just whipped cream on top of the cake of living with him.  Just having another person in the house (downstairs playing guitar at the moment) has done wonders for my mental health.  When I get home, someone asks me how my day was.  When I wake up, there’s already-made coffee waiting for me, or else I have someone to make coffee for.  When I talk aloud, there is someone else’s ear to hear what I’m saying.  I am only just realizing how co-dependent my personality is; I was recently struck with a flashback of an eight year old me only being capable of practicing violin if my mom was sitting in the same room, even if she paid no attention whatsoever.  But living with someone is definitely the way to go.  I can even watch movies now that were too scary to watch when living alone.  And Luca is great.  He makes me laugh and gives me good advice and teaches me Italian obscenities.

            Luca’s arrival also signified the official marriage of the American and Italian social worlds.  Now if Lee and I are ever going out or making dinner together, we automatically invite Luca and Lillo to join, and vice versa.  Goodbye, isolation and loneliness!  I’m a social butterfly.  Last Monday, we had a Bafang expat dinner of homemade pizza (thank you Lillo)!  Yesterday, Lee and I hosted an expat pancake breakfast!  Food and friends are clearly all it takes to turn this frown upside down.

           

On top of those two major changes, everything is generally going well.  For one week in June, I helped Becky, Lara, and Danielle with their sleepover camp in Bansoa.  It was good for me to see a camp in action for my own planning purposes, but most of all, it was a ton of fun.  They had 25 girls aged 14-17, all of whom were exceptional in every way.  They reminded me of my own time as a camper as they hugged each other and us on the last day, lamenting “but when will I see you again!!??”  They braided our hair and whispered after lights out and asked us to teach them American dances.  They wrote a really remarkable and touching song to perform at the final ceremony, the chorus of which states “Ma priorité est d’être éduquée [my priority is to get educated]” and they each put a condom on a wooden penis as part of their final evaluation, most of them without laughing.  I was really glad to get to help out with the camp and get to know this outstanding group of girls!

            Another fun week was hosting some of the new group of trainees on their site visit.  Between Lee and me, we had a group of five of them.  They were all really nice and a lot of fun, and Lee and I had a good time spoiling them with macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, Nutella crepes, a trip to a beautiful local resort which feels much more like Europe than Cameroon, and not enforcing their usual 7 pm curfew.  We all donned our stars and stripes to watch the US lose to Germany in the world cup and overall the whole time was a blast.  We reminded them repeatedly not to get their hopes up because no post will ever live up to the expectations we just set in Bafang.

            And I went to the Adamaoua region for a trip!  Comprehensive entry to come.

            Also my family is coming to visit in three weeks!  I am getting excited and have an extensive excel spreadsheet to plan.

            And, generally, after 8 months in Bafang, I feel at home.  I’m finally mastering negotiating prices – when, how, and how far to push it.  Cultural norms like the importance of greetings, sharing food, giving gifts, and calling people by their titles even when it seems really weird (“Thank you, Mr. The Delegate, have a good evening Mr. The Delegate.”) are becoming more and more comfortable.  Although I had reached the sad conclusion that I just didn’t like Cameroonian food, this has gradually flipped and now I get cravings for cous cous and sauce d’arachide, and am gorging myself on prunes until the season is over.  I’ve even come around on ndole!  When I walk around town, I generally feel like I have a rapport with people and that, while I will always be different, I’m at home.

Not all is right with the world.  Boko Haram continues to be a scary, looming threat.  Because of increasing activity, the North region was just evacuated of all volunteers, displacing some good friends who had put down roots and grown attached to their communities.  Meanwhile, Peace Corps Guinea, Sierra Leone, and Liberia have been evacuated for Ebola.  And as a PCV’s death last year is hitting the news, people are raising concerns about the quality of Peace Corps medical care.  And all that stuff is pretty shitty.  But still, in my personal sphere, things are going well.  It may be the peak of rainy season, but I’m walking on sunshine.  The spring is back in my step, as I bounce around Bafang, whistling and reveling at the beauty and wonders around me.  And it feels good!

Look ma, I'm on TV!

Our swearing in ceremony (plus a revealing interview with this girl) made it to national television!  Check it out.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B-JcSxP64c4#t=736

…And Some Good Things Have Happened!

Because life’s not all bad here in the ‘roon!  I figured I could either tell a long rambling chronological tale covering the past two months, or I could categorize every event as either “bragging” or “self-pitying”, because I know that’s what people love to read!  Enjoy!

·         I have now had two occasions to spend time in Yaounde (that’s the capital of Cameroon.  You guys know that right?) at the brand new case/transit house.  And let me tell you.  It’s pretty cool.  Being in Yaounde makes Cameroon feel a lot more livable – just knowing that there are places to go to get pizza, cocktails, hamburgers, hummus, spring rolls, buffalo wings, Turkish food, milkshakes, real cappuccinos… Bars and cafes with actual ambiance.  Supermarkets that sell cheese, salami, bacon, cereal, fig and berry preserves, and orange oranges.  This stuff might be OUTRAGEOUSLY EXPENSIVE* but makes for a hell of a “treat yo’self” sojourn.  Plus, I get to spend all day surrounded by Americans who speak my English and laugh at my jokes and get my cultural references.  And there’s free wifi all the time and nothing to do except go to bars and watch movies and eat delicious, special, indulgent food.  Yaounde is cool. (For an accurate portrayal of life at the case, search youtube for “real world yaounde”.  I’d link it but I don’t have good enough internet to get there right now.)

·         At the beginning of April, I stopped by Bafia to visit my host family.  Although I was only able to spend a couple of hours with them, it was SO, so nice.  It actually felt like coming home.  When I knocked on the gate and said, “C’est Antonia,” I heard a squeal and pounding footsteps as Djibriel raced over to wrap his arms around my waist.  Ericka, meanwhile, tried to follow suit but was too excited and tripped and banged her knee (aisha).  Everyone was so welcoming and Michael, the three year old, didn’t forget me (which was my biggest fear).  We listened to High School Musical songs on youtube just like old times.  My host dad assured me that I’m always welcome, and that they are my family as long as I’m here in Cameroon.  And my mom cooked a special meal, reminding me what a great cook she is and how, back when I lived with them, I used to think I liked Cameroonian food.  They are all wonderful and it made me really happy to see them all again.

·         One time, Allison came to my post and we ate hot dogs and mangoes and camembert and wine and American chocolate and whiskey.  Also, Alizabeth came to my post way from the grand north, so it was great to see her and give the full town tour, complete with hiking, waterfalls, meeting friends, helping dig a gutter as part of neighborhood work day, and enjoying Kadji, the best beer in Cameroon, among other things.  Frenz are fun.

·         I travelled en brousse and went to a traditional wedding in the northwest!  See accompanying entry.

·         I successfully completed a project, making me feel just a little productive and useful.  April was World Malaria Month, culminating in World Malaria Day on the 25^th.  I organized an anti-malaria campaign in Bafang.  First, I did a door-to-door sensitization/net hanging campaign.  A handful of exceptional volunteers and friends came down on Thursday and Friday to help cover as much ground as possible (shout out to Lee, Liz, Allison, Anna, Ben, Justin, Nate, and Debbie!).  We basically went door-to-door promoting the use of mosquito nets, emphasizing how bad malaria is (because it really is** – it’s the #1 killer of children in Africa!), sharing alternative prevention methods, and whatnot.  There are also people who received free mosquito nets in a country-wide distribution in 2011 but who never got around to hanging them, so we brought hammers and nails and hung up a few dormant nets.  It was also kind of fun and I got to meet a ton of new people and see a whole new side of Bafang.  I guess the folks I typically interact with are a self-selecting population, and so I didn’t even realize that there are people living right in the city who don’t understand any French, only the local language.  It was like a different world!  And it was cool!  We hit up around 150 houses total and essentially eradicated malaria in Bafang.

Then, on Saturday (April 26), I teamed up with a couple of guys from the district health office and a nurse from a local hospital and we set up a booth in the market to talk to people about malaria.  This ended up feeling hugely rewarding, not so much because the passers-by were so wowed and enlightened (although they surely were) but because the collaboration with my team felt just perfect.  I thought I might have to kind of “train” these guys on what to say, but they just showed up (on time!) and immediately jumped in, and they were all awesome.  And they could speak to people in the local language or in actually correct French, and they weren’t as scary and white as I am.  They even dug up a megaphone from somewhere and started making loud announcements to the marketplace in French, Fefe, and English.  I did all the planning and organizing, so I still felt useful, but they were definitely way better at the presenting and interacting part.  And the best part was that it was completely mutually beneficial, because these guys were doing their job.  One of my great sources of stress with finding work here is that if I want to work with locals (which you need to, of course, for sustainability and community engagement and integration and whatnot), I’m generally asking them to volunteer their time and energy for no compensation.  Which makes me feel guilty and them less eager.  But these guys showed up, helped me with my project, and then got to submit a report to their boss about what they did for World Malaria Day.  So it was really win-win-win-lose (me – them – citizens of Bafang – malaria).

·         I’m part of the Diversity Committee for Peace Corps Cameroon.  We just finished putting on the first annual national diversity forum!  We had around 60 participants, both PCVs and Cameroonians.  It was two days of sessions and it was held in Limbe, right on a black sand beach.  Going into it, I really wasn’t sure what to expect – sure, we had planned some sessions, but I had no idea how it would be all put together.  Anyway, I may be biased, but I think it went really, really well.  Tears flowed (I think my total cry count was at 5, all from feeling touched and none from frustration!).  Minds were opened.  We had a panel of Cameroonians representing different diversity issues (HIV+, marginalized tribes, women’s rights, physical disability, vitiligo), and they all did an amazing job and touched us.  During the question and answer session afterward, instead of asking questions, all anyone wanted to say was Wow, and Thank You, and You are an inspiration.  And they all are!  (A funny moment: When John was discussing his vitiligo (that thing Michael Jackson had, that causes you to lose pigment in your skin), he spoke of his struggle because he has to use a special cream that you can’t find in Cameroon, so it has to come all the way from the United States.  He passed the bottle around for the audience to see.  Sure enough, it was sunscreen.) 

The next day, we had a panel that talked a lot about homosexuality, a highly taboo and highly illegal subject.  One of the guys on the panel started by standing up.  “How many of you in this room have never met a homosexual?”  He asked.  A good proportion of the Cameroonians in the room raised their hands.  “Well, take a good look, because now you have.”  A couple of the other panelists came out too, making them all my personal heroes as some of the most brave and inspirational people I’ve ever met.  We were all afraid that people would react very negatively to that panel, and say hateful things during the Q&A, but we were wrong.  One Cameroonian attendee stood up and said that being there changed his views on homosexuality.  Another said she would leave the forum a different person.  That session touched me in particular, because I think it introduced a conversation that many Cameroonians have never had.  And it got people talking, and it got them thinking, and it felt a lot like watching the seeds of change take root.

Oh and also I got to relax and spend wonderful time on the beach!  Limbe is beautiful!

·         I had a birthday!  And it was great!  I felt a little anxious about it beforehand because my schedule was all up in the air and changing and I wasn’t sure where I would be, or if I’d be alone or with friends, or spending all day on a bus, or what.  Well, I ended up spending it in Yaounde, with a pretty big group of really good people.  Everyone made me feel happy and special the whole day.  We went to Hilton Happy Hour, where you can get REAL cocktails at the price of two for one, all in a scenic top-floor bar of perhaps the swankiest hotel in the country.  Next we got dinner at this amazing Lebenese restaurant which also has cocktails and shisha.  Anyway, good people are good and it was a practically perfect birthday.  Plus, my wonderful and considerate family sent me birthday care packages, which made me feel the warmth of familial love from thousands of miles away, and made me feel full with delicious American snackz.

·         May 20 was la fête de unité nationale !  I think in Anglophone they just call it National Day.  It’s basically Cameroon’s 4^th of July.  We marched in the morning (obviously), and then proceeded to drink and dance.  I received an invitation to the Prefect’s gala to celebrate in the evening.  Afraid it would be formal and boring and I wouldn’t know anyone there (since Lee and Ricky were out of town), I begrudgingly dragged my butt off the bamboo couch to go.  Well, it ended up being a lot of fun, with familiar faces from around town in addition to my French, Japanese, and Italian expat friends.  The food was good, and then it was followed by dancing, but not just your typical “you can dance if you want to” kind – it was the forced, awkward, bar mitzvah-style kind.  The DJ called out 42 men’s names (for the 42 years of national unity), and they were all asked to find a dance partner.  I was chosen by a delegate (#VIP) and we had a horrendously awkward slow dance.  But overall, it was a lot of fun and made me feel important and integrated.

·         Bafang is developing!!!  We just recently got a SECOND bank, which is weird and unnecessary for a town of this size, and the supermarket is undergoing a huge expansion!  You might not realize that it’s already remarkable to have any supermarket, even if it was the size of a small convenience store.  But now they’re practically doubling the size, expanding the inventory (they have shampoo and conditioner and deodorant now!), replacing all the janky wooden shelves with modern metal ones, and repaneling the walls to give it a cozy ambiance.  I got ridiculously excited when I saw this happening because it really does feel like a huge sign of development.  Business investment and expansion, fixing things before they urgently need to be replaced, deodorant… Now that’s development.

·         I’m getting a roommate!  A human one!  Luca, one of the Italians, was looking for a new place to live.  I made a half-joke about having so many extra rooms, that he was welcome to move in with me.  What started as a half-joke became a full-reality and I couldn’t be more excited.  Although I have lived with roommates and generally… not liked it, the grass is looking pretty green from this lonely side of the fence.  I’m picturing him becoming basically my personal chef, maid, workout buddy, chauffeur, Italian teacher, guitar tutor, confidant, social-outing-motivator, masseuse, and generally bettering me in every other way possible.  Oh yeah and he’s bringing: a refrigerator, a car, wifi, and a washing machine.  I might be the only Peace Corps volunteer in history to have a washing machine as I officially enter my new standing as the queen of posh corps.  Just install a hot water heater and A/C and deliver me a pizza and I’ll think I woke up in America.  Oh, and he’s really cool and stuff and has a good personality [that’s my “not just using him for material goods” disclaimer].  Surely by my next entry I will have remembered all the things I hate about living with people and why I was so lucky to have the place to myself.  But not yet!

·         Oh and I’ve been practicing guitar and I’m getting super good. #toomuchtimeonmyhands

·         Let me redirect your attention to the part where I said I’m getting wifi in my house.  This is huge.  INTERNET ALL THE TIME!!!!!  

We’re 8 months in with only a year and a half left in service.  Suddenly this “long term commitment” is starting to feel like a short term commitment!  And I’ve been feeling pretty good about having some friends and having a place in my town.  A group of kids in the neighborhood only just learned my name, but now when I drive past them on my moto ride home, they cry excitedly, “Antonia!!  Antonia!!” which fills my heart with joy.  I also have had some conversations with Cameroonians where they fondly recall interactions – even minor, informal ones – with Peace Corps volunteers over the past 51 years since we came to Cameroon.  They always remember the volunteer’s name, and sometimes their state, and they wonder how they’re doing, even if they haven’t seen or heard from them in over 20 years.  And that makes me feel good.  Like maybe that guy who sells me beef will be wondering how I’m doing in another 20 years.  And if the only actual “good” I do this town is giving some people a memorable example of a young independent woman who didn’t need no husband and left her country to help their community, then that might be enough.  I mean, that, and eradicating malaria, might be enough.

*Pizza: $5.  Burger: $4-7. Three spring rolls: $2.  Six buffalo wings: $4.  Milkshake: $4. Cocktails: $5-8.  Okay, so actually all the prices are totally decent but still many times more than a typical dinner at post.

**  The top 5 causes of illness in Bafang in 2013, with number of cases:

5.  Skin diseases: 552

4.  Ulcers: 699

3.  Typhoid: 715

2.  Respiratory Infection: 803

1.  Malaria: 4532

Right??????????

Some Bad Things Have Happened

We recently heard that Peace Corps Cameroon has won a couple of titles – not exactly the kind to be proud of.  We are ranked #1 in Africa for the highest crime rate against volunteers, and ranked #1 worldwide for incidences of malaria among volunteers.  Well, in the spirit of country solidarity, I have fallen victim to both since my past entry.  Read on to hear about those as well as other mishaps and misfortunes!

Ordered chronologically, not by severity.

·         Becky, Cat, and I were leaving Yaounde to visit our host families in Bafia.  We shared a cab to the bus agency.  When we got out, a handful of shouting men surrounded us and started grabbing our bags.  We were unfazed because, actually, this is the normal welcoming party when you get dropped off in the vicinity of several different agencies.  All the companies want you to get on their bus, not the other guy’s, so they come up, demanding, “Bafia?” and grab your bags to bring them to the correct bus.  This group was a little more aggressive than usual, given there weren’t that many of them.  One guy kept trying to grab my purse, which was around me with a shoulder strap and obviously not my heavy baggage.  I just thought he was an idiot.  And there was shouting and they were saying something that I heard as “nous ne sommes pas les bandits! [We are not bandits!]”.  They were ridiculously persistent and rude and it took way longer to shake them than usual.  It wasn’t until afterward that I realized some of them were actually trying to rob us, and some were from the agencies trying to protect us.  So when they grabbed our arms and pulled and shouted (which I thought was so rude), they were trying to remove us from the bandits.  And what they were saying was probably actually, “Ils sont les bandits! [They are bandits!]”.  And the guy who was trying to grab my purse was actually just trying to steal my purse.  And when he grabbed my butt he was actually checking for a wallet.  And the guy who demanded “Donnes moi ton telephone [Give me your phone]” actually wanted my cell phone, not my cell phone number.  It’s weird that I live such a life that people can grab my ass, demand my telephone, yank at my purse, and jerk me by the shoulder and I don’t realize that anything out of the ordinary is going on.  Anyway, we were all pretty shaken up (once we fully pieced together what had happened) but they didn’t get any of our stuff, and they didn’t have weapons or anything and so… all’s well that ends well?  In a way it was nice because I have been kind of living in fear of the looming possibility of getting robbed.  So now I feel like I kind of got it out of the way and it was anticlimactic and not all that bad.  Like the first time I fell off my bike and, you know, didn’t break any bones or crack my head open.

·         Someone broke into Lee’s house (which, not to make it about me, is right next door to mine) when he was at work and stole all of his valuables.  See accompanying entry.  All’s well that ends well.  Except now we know that people can climb our locked gates and get into our yards so it’s not really all that “well”.

·         I went to a mushroom cultivation training in Bamenda.  It seems a little harsh to put this under “bad things” that happened, but it turns out that mushroom cultivation is more involved and complicated than I thought, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to actually do any viable project with it.  Which is sad because I was excited at the prospect of having mushrooms available in the marketplace.  We’ll see.  Also it was a “bad thing” because I sad through like 1000 PowerPoint slides while stabbing myself in the thigh with my pen.

·         I got malaria!  About a week after finishing my malaria project.  (The head doctor gave his official diagnosis that I had angered malaria and it had come back for revenge.)  This was actually also highly anticlimactic because I spent a week telling people how deadly and dangerous it is, and then I got it and it was totally chill.  Honestly I think I had the best case of malaria anyone has ever had.  It lasted one day, and I had a fever (although it wasn’t really that high) and felt kind of “off”, but I tested positive and started treatment and felt better by morning.  I am feeling really thankful for my body who has been working SO HARD and generally doing an awesome job at keeping me healthy, even when I am irresponsible by washing my vegetables in tap water and neglecting my mosquito net (I swear I’ll hang it this week) and abusing alcohol and engaging in all kinds of other reckless behaviors.

·         My friend John went to jail.  He is one of my good friends in Bafang and so it was a pretty weird shock to hear that he was arrested for embezzling millions of CFA (equivalent to something like $7000) from his school.  It’s the first time in my life that I’ve been close to someone who went to jail.  I think he was there for five days before he made bail and got out.  Most of my information on the matter has been second- and third-hand, very gossipy and rumor-milly, so don’t take any of it to the bank (pun?).  When I mentioned it to him after he was out, he told me that it turned out the principal had made a miscalculation.  So I guess he’s in the clear, which I’m happy about.  I might never find out more about the matter.

·         Colby is gone.  He recently figured out how to climb the wall of my concession, which I thought was a good thing, so he could come and go as he pleased.  I was traveling for about two and a half weeks, and after just two days of being gone, Ricky reported that Colby was missing.  And he hasn’t been seen since.  Since I was away for the first two weeks of his absence, it didn’t totally sink in, and I didn’t totally accept it.  Then I got home and found no cat meowing at my door, and I pathetically left the gate propped open, hoping that maybe he would smell from afar that I had returned and it was safe to come back home.  I spent the night in my cold, lonely bed, with no little to my big spoon.  Maybe he’s off romping around being the wild jungle cat he always wanted to, finally able to embrace the full power of his fangs and jaw.  Or maybe he just followed my scent to Limbe, homeward bound-style, and will turn around and follow it back home and turn up on my doorstep in a month or two. My house still has a cat dish outside, a litter box in the corner, and his paw prints on the floor (I should really clean more often).  And my heart still has a cat-shaped hole in it. 

·         Boko Haram is scary.  I’ve been hearing rumors that they are in the West region, even that they are in Bafang.  I don’t think any West-region contingents are strong enough to be making any serious trouble (ie. kidnapping yours truly), but it’s definitely kind of freaking me out.  The Extreme North region (evacuated by Peace Corps last year) is seeing a ton of action and kidnappings lately, and the western Adamawa region was recently evacuated because of Boko Haram’s presence.  I don’t think I’m in any immediate danger but it is definitely a hot and scary issue.

·         My students are horrible and never show up to class.  When they do, they are disrespectful and uninterested.  I still totally love all of them outside of class though.

·         Ricky is leaving!  It’s his last week in Bafang before COSing and heading back to America.  Although I put this in the “bad things” category, I really wanted to talk about his send-off party, which was a lot of fun and put a lump in my throat.  He gathered his closest Bafang friends and there was eating and drinking and dancing and people sang songs and made speeches and gave gifts and it was really sweet.  And then at the after party at the Artisanat bar, John and Martin kept telling me, “We’ll do the same thing for you when you leave!  We’ll all be singing these songs for you!”  It felt like such a nice, loving community to be a part of!  But, sad, bye Ricky!

Neighborhood Caper

POLICE REPORT

DATE: 22-4-2014

TOWN:  Bafang

NEIGHBORHOOD:  Artisanat

VICTIM:  Lee Hundley

OFFENSE:  Burglary

TUESDAY 22-4-2014

THE INCIDENT:

9:00 AM.  Lee Hundley leaves house for work.  Locks front door.  Locks gate.  Proceeds to school and teaches class.  Nothing unusual happens.

12:30 PM.  Lee Hundley returns home.  Gate lock is intact with no signs of forced entry.  Enters compound.  Discovers displaced chair against wall of concession and displaced duffle bag (owner: Lee Hundley) in front yard.  Suspicions aroused.  Signs of forced entry on front door.  Victim discovers that his house has been broken into and a number of items are missing.

THE BOOTY:

·         Laptop computer

·         Camera

·         Speakers

·         Internet key

·         External hard drive

·         iPhone

·         Beard trimmer

·         Loose change

·         Winning Castel beer cap, good for one free beer.  Because this guy is truly heartless.

SUSPECT #1:  MITERAND.  Male neighbor, 18-25 years old, from directly across the street.  Good vantage point for learning Lee’s work schedule and potential security weaknesses.  Reputation for being a little “déliquent,” and has past accusations for small-scale neighborhood theft.

Lee reports incident to Peace Corps, police, landlord, Alfons (handyman/junior detective), and parents.  Speaks with Interviewee #1, child who lives across the street.

INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT:

LEE:  Quelqu’un a pris mes choses. [Someone took my things.]

INTERVIEWEE 1 : Ah bon ? [O rly?]

LEE:  Tu as vu quelque chose de bizarre ? [You see anything suspicious ?]

INTERVIEWEE 1 : Non. [No.]

LEE : Tu habites là-bas ? [Do you live there ?]

INTERVIEWEE 1 :  Oui, avec mon grand-frère, William. [Yes, with my older brother, William.]

LEE:  Il n’y a pas un autre garçon là-bas aussi ? [Doesn’t some other dude live there too ?]

INTERVIEWEE 1: (appears uncomfortable and excuses himself)

-          END OF INTERVIEW

2:30 PM.  Postmate, next-door-neighbor, idol, and mentor, Antonia Lloyd-Davies, returns home.  Lee recounts incident.  Antonia gives impeccable emotional support but has nothing else to offer.  Alfons arrives and presents new evidence.

NEW EVIDENCE: 

-          Because the incident occurred during daytime hours, the thief must have climbed over the back wall.  Leaving over the front or side wall would be too obvious.  Sure enough, Lee discovers a displaced bag (owner: Lee Hundley) outside near the back wall of his concession.

-          Again, because it is day time, it is likely that the criminals stashed the booty somewhere nearby so that they can come back and return at night to carry it away.

-          Alfons followed their path as far as he could but lost them in the area behind Lee’s house.

The new evidence introduces a new suspect:

SUSPECT #2:  THE “RENTERS”.  Apparently there is a cluster of houses with access to the back wall of Lee’s concession.  They rent from the same landlord and are well-positioned to have carried out the operation.  The renters replace Miterand as prime suspect.

Interviewee 1 returns:

INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT:

INTERVIEWEE 1:  Qu’est-ce qu’on a pris? [What was stolen ?]

LEE :  Beaucoup de choses.  Laptop, appereil-photo.  Beaucoup. [Lots of things.  Laptop, camera.  Lots.]

INTERVIEWEE 1:  Des chaussures? [Shoes?]

LEE:  What?  No.  Pas des chaussures. [Are you an idiot?  No, of course they didn’t take my shoes.]

INTERVIEWEE 1:  Parce-ce que j’ai trouvé un sac avec les chaussures. (Indicates up the road) [Because I found a bag of shoes up there.]

LEE:  Okay.  No.  Merci.  [You’re useless.]

Leonard, Lee’s counterpart and neighbor, arrives on the scene, distraught.  He has been informed of the incident and is displeased.  Leonard suggests returning to submit a report at the police and also with the gendarmes.  A crowd gathers of children and neighbors who have noticed that something is going on.  The people of Artisanat are not happy that there is a criminal in their midst.  Some exclaim, “This never used to happen!”  One woman shares the story of someone stealing her clothes of the line.  She then wrote a letter giving the thief two days to return her things, or else suffer some unnamed (but surely gruesome) consequence.  After two days, all the stolen clothes were returned and left on her porch. 

Carine, Leonard’s wife, arrives on the scene, carrying a bag.  As she was returning toward the house, she came across a bag full of shoes.  Upon closer inspection, she determined that the bag belonged to her and several of the pairs of shoes belonged to her children and husband.

NEW EVIDENCE:  BAG OF SHOES.  Carine had washed them and left them outside her house but within her concession.  All of the shoes within belonged to her or her family, except one pair of white house shoes.

                                                                    

“A clue!”  The neighbors cry, “Whoever these shoes belong to must have been the thief!  They started by going to Carine’s house and took the shoes, not realizing that they would find better booty when they got to Lee’s.  Their shoes must have been making noise and so they removed them to be stealthier, and put them in the bag!”

The crowd grows as people share suspicions and stories.  As someone reiterates Alfons’ theory that the booty may be stashed nearby until night, the neighbors exclaim.  “This whole time, we might just be out here and all his things are just nearby!”  Junior detective, Antonia, with accomplice and neighbor, Patrick, decide to check it out.  Together they uncover piles of banana leaves, peer down narrow alleyways, examine nearby yards and potential hiding spots, and explore a local abandoned house.  Their search yields nothing.

As they return to the crowd, Carine is giving a recap of the incident and evidence.  She holds up the white house shoes.  “These are the only shoes that aren’t ours.  These are our clue!”  A neighbor cries from a distance.  “Those are mine!”  She approaches and takes the house shoes.

SUSPECT #3:  THE LADY IN THE WHITE SHOES.  Connected to the shoes stolen from Carine’s consession.  Actually, no one suspected her after that point.

“Someone must have taken them!  They were outside our house!”  She cries.  “He’s attacking the whole neighborhood!” Someone else shouts.  Emotions rise throughout the crowd.  “NONE OF US IS SAFE!” Everyone thinks, in a panic.  Accusations fly.  Lee and Leonard discuss man with highly suspect behavior:

SUSPECT #4:  BLEACH BLONDE HAIR GUY.  This guy becomes a suspect because he “was acting weird.” Allegations include “he was just standing there, watching, and then he disappeared, suspiciously.”  Also, apparently, “I have never seen him around here before until recently, and now, he’s like, always around.”  He has also been witnessed smoking cigarettes.

Crowd disperses gradually.  Lee and Leonard leave to file a report with the gendarmes.

WEDNESDAY 23-4-2014

With Leonard’s help, Lee posts a letter on his gate and around the neighborhood addressing the criminal.  It is written in red ink, as recommended by Carine.  Red ink means WARNING.  The letter tells the criminal that he has seven days to return everything he has stolen, at risk of unnamed and unmentionable consequences.  The letter claims its origin in the North West, where everyone knows the sorcery and Ju Ju are powerful and dangerous.

THURSDAY 24-4-2014

Lee continues to be in contact with police and gendarmes forces.  One gives him an interesting piece of information.

NEW EVIDENCE:  Bleach blond hair guy, our suspect #4, was recently released from prison.  For burglary. 

The case against suspect #4 builds.  No sign of the valuables and no further incidences to report.

Man in car, the “chef du quartier” [neighborhood chief], approaches Lee about the incident.  He asks about what happened and when.  He requests a list of everything that was taken, including descriptions of each item.  Lee, who has already submitted such information to all kinds of authorities, is growing weary.  Hope is diminishing.  Chef du quartier says that he will do whatever he can to help.

FRIDAY 25-4-2014

Lee receives a call from friends Jillian and Vera.  They were watching the news and saw a report that a man was apprehended by the police in Kekem (a town 40 minutes from Bafang, on the road to Douala) and his car was full of stolen goods.  The police recovered a number of items including a laptop computer and camera.  They suspect this may be the criminal who burgled Lee and that the items are his.  He is asked to go to Kekem the following morning to identify and perhaps take home the items.

SUSPECT #5:  THE GUY THEY CAUGHT IN KEKEM.  Discovered on the run with a bunch of the same stuff that was stolen from Lee, three days after the incident.  The case against him is powerful.

Lee and friends celebrate the imminent return of his valuables by sharing a Kadji.  A sense of safety is returned to Artisanat as justice is about to be served to this cold-hearted criminal.  The owner of the repossessed belongings is not yet confirmed as Lee, but everyone is cautiously optimistic.  It appears this story may have a happy ending after all.

SATURDAY 26-4-2014

Lee receives further information that the valuables were not, in fact, his.  Spirits come crashing down.  This false alarm has caused some damage to local morale.  Lee again mourns the loss of his belongings. 

SUNDAY 27-4-2014

Hopes dwindle.  Future looks bleak.

MONDAY 28-4-2014

Deadline set by threatening letter approaches.  No sign of valuables.  No further information.  No new suspects.  A melancholy veil of acceptance begins to set in.

TUESDAY 29-4-2014

Lee gets a call reporting some recovered items.  He is asked to come down to the police station to identify them.  Unable to summon expectations for anything but disappointment, he wearily trudges down to the office.  To his surprise, the computer he is asked to identify is his!  He celebrates the return of this one vital item, although learns that the rest of his belongings were not recovered.  The thieves are apprehended.  They have already sold or given away most of his things.  Lee sits in the police station as, one by one, people are called in to bring back his valuables.  It is a victory parade unfolding before his eyes.  It is a testament to karma and comeuppance.  It is the rebalancing of Lady Justice’s scales.  By the end of the day, everything has been returned except for his camera’s memory card, the cord to his hard drive, and his winning Castel beer cap.  Apparently, the chef du quartier contacted some of his friends who buy and sell electronics and told them to keep an eye out for items matching Lee’s description.  The criminals (previously unknown to Lee and friends, and outsiders to Artisanat) are put away and the key is thrown out.  Artisanat again becomes the safe, friendly neighborhood it once was.  Peace and happiness return to the land.  This story does have a happy ending.  Lee finishes the episode of Friday Night Lights that he began one week ago, and sleeps soundly in his bed.

CASE CLOSED.