The Extreme North and Dad’s Visit
The month of April has been full of wonderful and exciting trips. The first was Papa Hershner’s visit to Yaoundé! He pulled out all the stops and somehow found a free weekend in all his business trips to come visit me here in Africa. It was a great weekend. He got in on Thursday night, and upon leaving the airport, we were stopped in our car by a police checkpoint, or maybe it was gendarme, I couldn’t tell. They asked to see our papers, and it was clear that they were trying to find a mistake or something they could get money out of. They checked the trunk, just to see the luggage, but unluckily for them, we are law-abiding citizens. The rest of the weekend came together in a whirlwind of shopping and eating.
On Friday, we visited Briqueterie, the Muslim neighborhood, and bought fabric galore, stopping only for soya. We went downtown to La King, the fabric store and found the perfect African shirt for Dad to wear at the reception that night. We were such efficient shoppers that we also made it to the Artisanal Market, and made some great purchases there as well. I have to keep those a secret, because some people (Mom and Laura) might be reading this. Friday night was the reception at my host family’s house. It was really beautiful. A few of my fellow programmers, all of the family and some family friends gathered first for drinks outside, and then into the salon for a huge feast. It was delicious, and my family, thoughtful as always, held back from making anything spicy. A few toasts and full stomachs finished the night, and when everyone left I distributed the presents for my family. They could not have been more excited to get everything, and the biggest hit of all was the photo album. Saturday started off with a delicious breakfast at Anne’s host family’s house, specially made in my father’s honor. We visited Sarah’s host mother to fit a few shirts for Dad, did a little more shopping, and ate lunch at one of my favorite bakeries before heading back to the hotel to unwind before the night’s festivities. We went out to our bar of choice near the apartment with all of the students, which turned out to be really fun. The weekend sadly ended Sunday night at the airport, where I couldn’t stop crying, but my host family generously decided to accompany us there, so we took a few (very bloodshot eyed) photos before he left.
The following day, Monday, we left for our trip to the extreme North. IT WAS SO HOT. Like over 100 degrees hot. Let me tell you, I was not made for that kind of weather. The train ride up was intended to be a 12-hour ride, but it ended up extending for 12 extra hours, due to some train delays. We finally arrived in the North and our adventure began. We spent two days in Maroua, most of which were passed at the markets, buying fabric and other works of art. It was pretty amazing. The North is predominantly Muslim, and most of the venders were Muslim. They were tough bargainers, but I set my mind and worked my way through the market. We then traveled to Waza, which has a giant national park, where we took a safari and saw 2 LIONS. Up close and personal. We also saw giraffes, warthogs (Pumba!), antelope, and a lot of birds. It was exactly what I picture the African savannah to be, and at the end of it all, I was ready to collapse on the couch (preferably with air conditioning) and watch the Lion King. Instead, we traveled to Rhumsiki, which was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It borders Nigeria, and I think I can confidently say that I have been in Nigeria. Mr. Teku is a smart man, and booked us in a hotel with a pool, which, by the end of the 9 days, was quite literally an oasis. The group went on a hike on the final day of the trip, that, sadly I missed because I was pretty sick. But other than that we spent the day swimming and resting, before heading home to Yaoundé. We arrived back here yesterday, and it was wonderful to feel like we were truly coming home. The trip was a huge success and it was an experience I will never forget. When else in your life can you be 50 feet from a lion? And don’t say the zoo.
For now, I’m off. We now have exactly two months left here in Yaoundé, so I better live it up!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Visiting a junkyard
I am about to shock you all... two posts in record time! It's currently 6:30 am and I can't sleep, so I'll take the opportunity to be productive. I think that some of the reflections I write for my creative writing class capture pretty well the cool adventures I take here, so I'll post another and see if you like it. We visited this street in Yaoundé that is lined with shops selling used car parts, most of them specialize in on particular brand. So here was my impression:
Once we arrived at the street famous for its plethora of car parts, the smell of oil was overpowering. Grease was everywhere, spilling out onto the pavement from the dirt side of the road. It framed the doorways of the small shacks bursting with metal coils and replacement car doors. Metal coils and replacement car doors. That’s really the best I can do. To be honest, I am the furthest thing from a car connoisseur, and I felt pretty out of place at the junkyard. If you told me to pick out one piece from either of the shops we stopped at, I guarantee you I wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was. Unless it was that old seat inside the first shop. I know what that is.
Aside from my lack of knowledge about cars, the junkyard was pretty interesting. The best part was getting a first row seat to the corruption show. After a police officer showed up and fitted a big boot on the wheel of a car that was being worked on, we got to see the Cameroonian justice system in action. Cars are not supposed to be worked on in the street, and a few guys were fixing the engine. I think. But in any case, this police officer happened to notice, and he took the opportunity to make a few extra bucks. We watched the police officer and one of the men working on the car take a little stroll, and a minute later, someone came and removed the boot.
The episode reminded me slightly of Hortense and the tax collectors, although this time it benefitted both sides. The corruption in Cameroon is often talked about, yet this was the first time I had witnessed how even the smallest things can be dealt with under the table.
Pretty crazy!
Once we arrived at the street famous for its plethora of car parts, the smell of oil was overpowering. Grease was everywhere, spilling out onto the pavement from the dirt side of the road. It framed the doorways of the small shacks bursting with metal coils and replacement car doors. Metal coils and replacement car doors. That’s really the best I can do. To be honest, I am the furthest thing from a car connoisseur, and I felt pretty out of place at the junkyard. If you told me to pick out one piece from either of the shops we stopped at, I guarantee you I wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was. Unless it was that old seat inside the first shop. I know what that is.
Aside from my lack of knowledge about cars, the junkyard was pretty interesting. The best part was getting a first row seat to the corruption show. After a police officer showed up and fitted a big boot on the wheel of a car that was being worked on, we got to see the Cameroonian justice system in action. Cars are not supposed to be worked on in the street, and a few guys were fixing the engine. I think. But in any case, this police officer happened to notice, and he took the opportunity to make a few extra bucks. We watched the police officer and one of the men working on the car take a little stroll, and a minute later, someone came and removed the boot.
The episode reminded me slightly of Hortense and the tax collectors, although this time it benefitted both sides. The corruption in Cameroon is often talked about, yet this was the first time I had witnessed how even the smallest things can be dealt with under the table.
Pretty crazy!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Preparations!
So as you might know, my dad (real US dad) is coming to visit Yaoundé in one week! I absolutely cannot wait. So i drew up this study guide for him, and I thought maybe it would make a cool blog post. Or, in simpler terms, Anna's laziness towards blogging kicks in! Just kidding. Kind of. The only things I left out were the emergency contact information, no need to post that on the internet!
Cameroon 2011 Study Guide
When you arrive…
-You are going to feel like you are the only white person in the whole world (until you see me)
-Because of the above point, everyone will be staring at you. STARING. Just ignore it
-There may not be a very organized line at the airport, Cameroonians don’t really respect “no budging” rules that we follow in the US. Just budge. If you don’t, you’ll never get anywhere
-Baggage claim especially will drive you nuts, just shove your way in there, no one will be offended. I promise.
Just in general...
-It’s really, really hot. Pack accordingly
-Cameroon is also transitioning into the rainy season, which means it is extra hot and rains at least once a day, so bring a small umbrella. It might be unnecessary, but you definitely won’t need a raincoat (too hot, I promise)
-Bring some stomach medicine. I will do my best to keep you safe, but just in case you eat something a little off, you should be prepared. That said, don’t worry. I didn’t get sick until I was here for like 3 weeks.
-Don’t forget to take your malaria pills!
-Bring some travel packs of tissues and purel; the public bathrooms can sometimes be a little iffy
-The water and electricity (more often the water) shuts off occasionally, so in the event that there is no water for you to shower with in the hotel, it might be beneficial to bring wipes, if you have any kind you like so you can clean off your face and body. It’s not really a big deal because everyone is pretty sweaty and smelly anyways but if it bothers you not to shower every day then I suggest you prepare yourself
-We will buy you tons of bottle water when you get here
During your visit…
-You are staying at the Hotel Kamthe. It is located in the neighborhood Mendong, which coincidentally is the neighborhood that I live in!
-Mr. Teku’s driver will bring me to pick you up at the airport, and he will take you back to the airport on Sunday (with me and probably my host family)
-We are having a small reception at my host family’s house on Friday night, 5 pm
-We are also having lunch with Mr. Teku on Sunday
-You are going to go out with the rest of the students on Saturday night (hopefully) to our favorite bar, so be prepared.
-We will be doing a lot of exploring and walking, so make sure you have comfy shoes
-My family loves spicy food. They know I don’t like it so they tone it down (still, yikes) and I’ve told them that you are exactly like me, so hopefully they don’t make anything spicy. Still, fair warning.
Helpful Phrases
-Hello = Bonjour
Please = s’il vous plait
Thank you = merci
-How are you? = Comment ca va?
-I am good = Ca va bien or je vais bien
-And you? = Et toi? (ay twah)
-My name is Al = Je m’appelle Al
-I would like… = Je voudrais
-200 = deux cent (standard taxi fare)
-Hotel that you are staying at = Hotel Kamthe (kamtay)
-water = l’eau (sounds like owe or low)
-Bathroom = salle de bains
-Where is the… = Ou est la… (ooh ay la)
-How do you say… = comment ca va dire…
Well, I guess I also left out the section where I ask him to bring me things (only really useful, necessary things) from the US. That's just a little embarrassing. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! If you find any information I left out that you think should be on there let me know. Until next time!
Cameroon 2011 Study Guide
When you arrive…
-You are going to feel like you are the only white person in the whole world (until you see me)
-Because of the above point, everyone will be staring at you. STARING. Just ignore it
-There may not be a very organized line at the airport, Cameroonians don’t really respect “no budging” rules that we follow in the US. Just budge. If you don’t, you’ll never get anywhere
-Baggage claim especially will drive you nuts, just shove your way in there, no one will be offended. I promise.
Just in general...
-It’s really, really hot. Pack accordingly
-Cameroon is also transitioning into the rainy season, which means it is extra hot and rains at least once a day, so bring a small umbrella. It might be unnecessary, but you definitely won’t need a raincoat (too hot, I promise)
-Bring some stomach medicine. I will do my best to keep you safe, but just in case you eat something a little off, you should be prepared. That said, don’t worry. I didn’t get sick until I was here for like 3 weeks.
-Don’t forget to take your malaria pills!
-Bring some travel packs of tissues and purel; the public bathrooms can sometimes be a little iffy
-The water and electricity (more often the water) shuts off occasionally, so in the event that there is no water for you to shower with in the hotel, it might be beneficial to bring wipes, if you have any kind you like so you can clean off your face and body. It’s not really a big deal because everyone is pretty sweaty and smelly anyways but if it bothers you not to shower every day then I suggest you prepare yourself
-We will buy you tons of bottle water when you get here
During your visit…
-You are staying at the Hotel Kamthe. It is located in the neighborhood Mendong, which coincidentally is the neighborhood that I live in!
-Mr. Teku’s driver will bring me to pick you up at the airport, and he will take you back to the airport on Sunday (with me and probably my host family)
-We are having a small reception at my host family’s house on Friday night, 5 pm
-We are also having lunch with Mr. Teku on Sunday
-You are going to go out with the rest of the students on Saturday night (hopefully) to our favorite bar, so be prepared.
-We will be doing a lot of exploring and walking, so make sure you have comfy shoes
-My family loves spicy food. They know I don’t like it so they tone it down (still, yikes) and I’ve told them that you are exactly like me, so hopefully they don’t make anything spicy. Still, fair warning.
Helpful Phrases
-Hello = Bonjour
Please = s’il vous plait
Thank you = merci
-How are you? = Comment ca va?
-I am good = Ca va bien or je vais bien
-And you? = Et toi? (ay twah)
-My name is Al = Je m’appelle Al
-I would like… = Je voudrais
-200 = deux cent (standard taxi fare)
-Hotel that you are staying at = Hotel Kamthe (kamtay)
-water = l’eau (sounds like owe or low)
-Bathroom = salle de bains
-Where is the… = Ou est la… (ooh ay la)
-How do you say… = comment ca va dire…
Well, I guess I also left out the section where I ask him to bring me things (only really useful, necessary things) from the US. That's just a little embarrassing. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! If you find any information I left out that you think should be on there let me know. Until next time!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
We have officially started taking African dance classes. I don't know if you've ever tried to dance like an African, but let me tell you, it's difficult. I've always felt like I had a great sense of rhythm, but after these classes I'm not so sure! It's so much fun, and we have a great time trying, but let's keep the emphasis on trying. It's great exercise, and I better get a Dickinson gym credit out of it. We dance barefoot on this wooden floor, to improvised beats that come from the talented drummers sitting alongside us.
In other news, we recently celebrated Mama Temgoua's birthday! It was a wonderful night filled with Twister (she wins every time, it's a little embarrassing for me) and a delicious homemade cake. She and I each had a beer (I had a Castel, she had a Guinness, again, time to step up Anna) and we hung out in the living room all together until bedtime. I also visited my first African club the other night, which was quite an experience! It was literally exactly how I pictured a club to be (the nightlife in Carlisle and suburban Chicago got nothin on Cameroon) with multicolored lights under the dance floor and big luxurious couches. The insanely overpriced drinks topped it off, and it was so much fun! I'm starting to explore the city more and my love for it just keeps growing.
I can't believe we have been here for two months! It's crazy. We leave in exactly three months, which makes me want to cry every time I think about it. My family here has become quite like my family at home. My host siblings and I joke and make fun of each other like real siblings, and the other day host mama called me her "enfant" (child). I can't imagine leaving. So I won't. I hope to visit my family's village soon, which they tell me is really cold. I told them they didn't even know what cold felt like. But I can't wait to see what that side of Cameroonian life is like.
I am proud to say that my stomach is essentially completely adjusted to Cameroonian food and that I am soon going to make some American food for my family. They want me to make hamburgers (yuck) but I promised I would, only if they try my favorite sauce (mayo and ketchup). I'm also planning to make them baked macaroni, and if they don't like it, more for me! Win-win!
As usual, I apologize for the infrequent blog entries, but this time I blame my sore muscles from African dance. Until next time!
In other news, we recently celebrated Mama Temgoua's birthday! It was a wonderful night filled with Twister (she wins every time, it's a little embarrassing for me) and a delicious homemade cake. She and I each had a beer (I had a Castel, she had a Guinness, again, time to step up Anna) and we hung out in the living room all together until bedtime. I also visited my first African club the other night, which was quite an experience! It was literally exactly how I pictured a club to be (the nightlife in Carlisle and suburban Chicago got nothin on Cameroon) with multicolored lights under the dance floor and big luxurious couches. The insanely overpriced drinks topped it off, and it was so much fun! I'm starting to explore the city more and my love for it just keeps growing.
I can't believe we have been here for two months! It's crazy. We leave in exactly three months, which makes me want to cry every time I think about it. My family here has become quite like my family at home. My host siblings and I joke and make fun of each other like real siblings, and the other day host mama called me her "enfant" (child). I can't imagine leaving. So I won't. I hope to visit my family's village soon, which they tell me is really cold. I told them they didn't even know what cold felt like. But I can't wait to see what that side of Cameroonian life is like.
I am proud to say that my stomach is essentially completely adjusted to Cameroonian food and that I am soon going to make some American food for my family. They want me to make hamburgers (yuck) but I promised I would, only if they try my favorite sauce (mayo and ketchup). I'm also planning to make them baked macaroni, and if they don't like it, more for me! Win-win!
As usual, I apologize for the infrequent blog entries, but this time I blame my sore muscles from African dance. Until next time!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Conquering laziness...
Sorry I’ve been so bad at updating, but between the Cameroonian heat and the growing workload (okay, not really) I’ve been slacking on my blog. I’m really just trying to keep you all in suspense. Well here goes! I have fallen in love with a five month-old baby girl, her name is Allison and she is the daughter of my host uncle. She just likes to sit and hold onto my fingers, and could not be any cuter. Literally. Other than the baby, there isn’t too much other family news to report, everything is still going wonderfully! The only damper was the other day when they killed a chicken (I know, I know, how can I eat a chicken and not be okay with killing it), which was a little traumatizing. But I’ve been learning a lot about practicality, and once it was de-plumed, I was totally able to help. Sort of. I am finding that I am a little useless in the kitchen, which I suppose is not altogether surprising.
Classes have gotten going, and a lot of our work is reflecting on our experiences and writing them out in words. I want to post a reflection I wrote for my creative writing class (I’m a nerd, I’m sorry) about one of the markets we visited, because I think it might be something you would enjoy. I could be totally wrong. But I’m gonna go out on a limb and try it anyway!
I slide into the backseat of the cab, squishing myself in beside the other two passengers, trying to ignore the sweat that is no doubt glistening on my face. The taste of sugar cane still lingers in my mouth, which is slowly but sure drying out in protest, in search of its next thirst quench. First stop, Marché Centrale. As soon as we enter the gate that guards the market, we are bombarded. People selling everything you could possibly need or want, and at prices that put Casino to shame. The vast amount of products being bartered over and exchanging hands makes me wonder how I have never noticed Marché Centrale before. It’s not exactly easy to miss. It pretty much looks like a giant swirl ice cream cone topped with a million multi-colored sprinkles, melting in the middle of downtown Yaoundé. Which is funny, because that is exactly what I am doing.
The street vendors and their products cater to every extreme end of the spectrum, from prescription drugs and glasses, to tissues and candy. Everywhere we go, we attract a large crowd of people advertising products, marriage proposals, and everything in between. We stop at a man selling oranges downtown, and he tells us about how much fruit he sells every day, which is an entire wheelbarrow. But what really amazes me is that this man and the orange vender ten feet away from him have no animosity towards each other. They simply work in harmony without worrying about the competition. And this is not unique to this street corner. Lesson learned: although Yaoundé may often be overwhelming, underneath the hustle and bustle it is clear that the city is unique in its dedication to community
So that was my lame attempt at an academic reflection of my surroundings and experiences, and there will be many more to come. I am looking forward to a visit from mon pere very soon, in just under a month! I am working on posting some photos to facebook, so if I get that up and running I’ll keep you posted! Until next time. Let me know what you think of my reflection!
Classes have gotten going, and a lot of our work is reflecting on our experiences and writing them out in words. I want to post a reflection I wrote for my creative writing class (I’m a nerd, I’m sorry) about one of the markets we visited, because I think it might be something you would enjoy. I could be totally wrong. But I’m gonna go out on a limb and try it anyway!
I slide into the backseat of the cab, squishing myself in beside the other two passengers, trying to ignore the sweat that is no doubt glistening on my face. The taste of sugar cane still lingers in my mouth, which is slowly but sure drying out in protest, in search of its next thirst quench. First stop, Marché Centrale. As soon as we enter the gate that guards the market, we are bombarded. People selling everything you could possibly need or want, and at prices that put Casino to shame. The vast amount of products being bartered over and exchanging hands makes me wonder how I have never noticed Marché Centrale before. It’s not exactly easy to miss. It pretty much looks like a giant swirl ice cream cone topped with a million multi-colored sprinkles, melting in the middle of downtown Yaoundé. Which is funny, because that is exactly what I am doing.
The street vendors and their products cater to every extreme end of the spectrum, from prescription drugs and glasses, to tissues and candy. Everywhere we go, we attract a large crowd of people advertising products, marriage proposals, and everything in between. We stop at a man selling oranges downtown, and he tells us about how much fruit he sells every day, which is an entire wheelbarrow. But what really amazes me is that this man and the orange vender ten feet away from him have no animosity towards each other. They simply work in harmony without worrying about the competition. And this is not unique to this street corner. Lesson learned: although Yaoundé may often be overwhelming, underneath the hustle and bustle it is clear that the city is unique in its dedication to community
So that was my lame attempt at an academic reflection of my surroundings and experiences, and there will be many more to come. I am looking forward to a visit from mon pere very soon, in just under a month! I am working on posting some photos to facebook, so if I get that up and running I’ll keep you posted! Until next time. Let me know what you think of my reflection!
Monday, February 28, 2011
On to month 2!
Four days ago we passed the one-month mark. I can’t believe it’s only been that long, I feel like I’ve been here forever. The experiences I’ve amassed in the past month have already been enough to sustain me for a lifetime, and I can’t wait for what else is headed my way! We got back from Limbe yesterday, a short weekend trip to the beach. We spent the whole of Friday traveling, and because it was raining (in Yaoundé and in Limbe) the whole ride was freezing. It was the first time since I got off the plane (other than when I shower) that I’ve been cold here. I’ll take it. We spent Saturday visiting Buea, watching a little bit of the Mt. Cameroon race before hitting the beach. The Mt. Cameroon race amazes me. The participants make it all the way to the summit of the mountain (the second highest mountain in Africa) and back down, some in five hours or less. I struggle to walk up the hills in Yaoundé without taking a break. After watching the first few people make it down the mountain we ventured over the beach in Limbe, which is a picture perfect black sand landscape.
My Cameroonian skills are improving—I am slowly improving my laundry technique and am getting pretty adept at removing spots from my clothing. Cooking is another matter, but I made eggs the other day and they turned out pretty well… everyone has to start somewhere. My next goal is balancing things on my head, and I started to practice last night. My youngest host brother and I walked over to the market to buy water, and I tried to carry it home on my head. I probably should have started off with something a little lighter, maybe next time I’ll try one bottle of water instead of six. Understandably he couldn’t stop laughing at me, but I will prove myself!
In other news, I am trying and failing to imagine the way I’m going to feel when I return to the US. It is hard to imagine having running water all the time and constant access to the internet. I feel like most people say that when you go to another country that has a drastically different way of life, you realize how many things you take for granted at home. For me however, I’ve really begun to realize how many things at home are so unnecessary. I could name a million examples, but I don’t want to dwell on what I own that I don’t need. I know that over time here in Cameroon I will grow more used to going without certain things, and I hope that when I get back to the US, those habits will slowly work their way into place. But for now, I am simply attempting to get back into the school routine after our relaxing weekend away. Until next time!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
La blanche!
Being hyper-visible is exhausting. I don't mean that as a complaint, just as a reflection of every moment I am outside of my house or the apartment. It is rare to walk down the street without hearing, "la blanche! La blanche!" or, "C'est comment, ma cherie?" It's an interesting feeling to know that every move I make is being watched by alot of people. I feel even more conspicuous when I enter a restaurant and am in very close proximity to the people watching me, it's worse than the former catwalk in the caf (at Dickinson). A couple of days ago I had the opportunity to go to a wedding that was being held at Elizabeth's house. It was one of the coolest experiences I've had so far in Cameroon. True to Cameroonian style, it rained hard at first, but then subsided so the wedding party could continue. Although we didn't exactly know who had gotten married, it was wonderful to be included. The bride and groom's first dance was so beautiful. They looked so incredibly happy and there was not a single person there that wasn't tearing up. After they finished their dance (to a Celine Dion song), everyone else joined in. Les blanches included. We were spectacles on the dance floor. All eyes were on us, and definitely not because of our dancing skills (at least not my skills). It was a moment in which I realized (probably much later than everyone else) that I will never be able to blend in here, and that is okay. Everything I do here is a learning experience in some way. Anyway, as for the rest of the wedding, I unfortunately had to leave early to get home to my host family, but I was told that the fun continued long into the night.
Speaking of important events, I think you all should know about one of my biggest milestones thus far. My first cockroach kill. You may think this is melodramatic, but I am not exaggerating when I tell you that it was the biggest cockoach I have EVER seen, and that I am now a stronger person for having dealt with it. Picture this: two or three days ago, I am sleeping in my bed, all cozy underneath my mosquito net (which is tucked under all of the sides of my mattress, probably prompting you to question how I came into contact with this cockroach, something I am still investigating myself), when I wake up to something falling on my chest. Not just anything. A GIANT COCKROACH. As soon as I become fully aware of the dire situation I am facing, I flick the cockroach off my chest and it hits the side of my mosquito net. I am now literally trapped inside of my mosquito net with a giant cockroach. It is about 4:30 in the morning and still very dark, so I grab my phone and use the light to shine on the cockroach to keep it in my sight in case it decides to attack again. I am frantically pulling on my mosquito net to find a gap for it to exit from, and as soon as I do it scurries out of the net. The only question now remaining is whether or not it has made it to the floor, or is still on my bed somewhere. I decide to err on the side of caution and assume it is still in close proximity. I manage to flick on the lights, and plant myself in the middle of my mattress and scan the room every five seconds for signs of roach life. I can hear it chirping (yes, cockroaches make a horrifying chirping noise), and this only heightens my terror. Finally, after about forty-five minutes of paralyzing fear, the roach comes into sight and scuttles across the floor. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I emerge from the net, and quickly slip on my sandals. The foul crunching sound that results from the squashing of the cockroach is well received as a wave of comfort washes over me. I leave it on the floor to show my host family in the morning (I know they will be so proud of me) and after doing about five more scans of the bedroom, go back to sleep.
There are so many things I have done in the past few days that I want to describe, but it would be hard to list all of them here. Yesterday a few of us went to Briqueterie, the Muslim neighborhood, to walk around and browse for fabric. The fabric here in Cameroon is amazing, I have already made one dress, and have plans to make many more. We walked up what seemed to every hill in the neighborhood, stopping in a couple stores and making our final destination a little stand for fresh fruit smoothies, and delicious boeuftek (tasty beef, french fries, bread, and mayonnaise). It was a very interesting experience, seeing a different way of life in Cameroon. At my house here, I can hear the call to prayer every morning. It sounds five times a day, and when it goes off around 4:30 or 5:00 in the morning, I often wake up to the sound of people chanting. At first I was confused, but after having figured out what it is, I love hearing it. It's amazing to hear so many people praying at once, and it reminds me of the sense of community here in Cameroon. Something that's pretty amazing about this place is that there are so few homeless people. The importance of family and community is too important to let anyone go hungry or shelter-less, and so it's very rare to see people living on the streets. Not only do families take care of each other, everyone comes from a village where they can live and will be taken care of. Even if people have moved to the city, they are always welcome and often return to their villages. That is one of my favorite things about Cameroon.
With that, I will leave you to process my roach killing, and promise to write more often in the future!
Speaking of important events, I think you all should know about one of my biggest milestones thus far. My first cockroach kill. You may think this is melodramatic, but I am not exaggerating when I tell you that it was the biggest cockoach I have EVER seen, and that I am now a stronger person for having dealt with it. Picture this: two or three days ago, I am sleeping in my bed, all cozy underneath my mosquito net (which is tucked under all of the sides of my mattress, probably prompting you to question how I came into contact with this cockroach, something I am still investigating myself), when I wake up to something falling on my chest. Not just anything. A GIANT COCKROACH. As soon as I become fully aware of the dire situation I am facing, I flick the cockroach off my chest and it hits the side of my mosquito net. I am now literally trapped inside of my mosquito net with a giant cockroach. It is about 4:30 in the morning and still very dark, so I grab my phone and use the light to shine on the cockroach to keep it in my sight in case it decides to attack again. I am frantically pulling on my mosquito net to find a gap for it to exit from, and as soon as I do it scurries out of the net. The only question now remaining is whether or not it has made it to the floor, or is still on my bed somewhere. I decide to err on the side of caution and assume it is still in close proximity. I manage to flick on the lights, and plant myself in the middle of my mattress and scan the room every five seconds for signs of roach life. I can hear it chirping (yes, cockroaches make a horrifying chirping noise), and this only heightens my terror. Finally, after about forty-five minutes of paralyzing fear, the roach comes into sight and scuttles across the floor. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I emerge from the net, and quickly slip on my sandals. The foul crunching sound that results from the squashing of the cockroach is well received as a wave of comfort washes over me. I leave it on the floor to show my host family in the morning (I know they will be so proud of me) and after doing about five more scans of the bedroom, go back to sleep.
There are so many things I have done in the past few days that I want to describe, but it would be hard to list all of them here. Yesterday a few of us went to Briqueterie, the Muslim neighborhood, to walk around and browse for fabric. The fabric here in Cameroon is amazing, I have already made one dress, and have plans to make many more. We walked up what seemed to every hill in the neighborhood, stopping in a couple stores and making our final destination a little stand for fresh fruit smoothies, and delicious boeuftek (tasty beef, french fries, bread, and mayonnaise). It was a very interesting experience, seeing a different way of life in Cameroon. At my house here, I can hear the call to prayer every morning. It sounds five times a day, and when it goes off around 4:30 or 5:00 in the morning, I often wake up to the sound of people chanting. At first I was confused, but after having figured out what it is, I love hearing it. It's amazing to hear so many people praying at once, and it reminds me of the sense of community here in Cameroon. Something that's pretty amazing about this place is that there are so few homeless people. The importance of family and community is too important to let anyone go hungry or shelter-less, and so it's very rare to see people living on the streets. Not only do families take care of each other, everyone comes from a village where they can live and will be taken care of. Even if people have moved to the city, they are always welcome and often return to their villages. That is one of my favorite things about Cameroon.
With that, I will leave you to process my roach killing, and promise to write more often in the future!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)