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!