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!

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!

A taste of the first few weeks...

Writing my second post in record timing, I am pretty impressed with myself. But this time I’m typing on my own laptop, which is clearly much easier to do. My last post was also created within a time limit, because that is how the “cyber cafes” here work; you pay for a certain amount of time and are given a code to get online, once the time is up, the computer logs you off. I finished and posted my last entry within 50 seconds of my limit, so hopefully the writing is better this time around.

There are so many things that we’ve done so far that I can’t do them all justice in one blog post. Some of my favorite places we’ve visited are the markets. The first market I went to was called Marché Mokolo. My host brother Loic took Anne, Grace and me there to look for Samuel Eto jerseys. Soccer (football) is religion here, so of course one of the first purchases to be made was a jersey. It was a twenty-minute taxi ride to Mokolo, and to say that the market itself is overwhelming is an understatement. Everywhere you turn there are people selling fruit, vegetables, clothing, shoes, fabric, household appliances, and anything else you could want from stands (comptoirs, in French) and blankets on the ground. The walkways are so narrow that you must walk in a straight line, and the air is filled with the sounds of, “la blanche! La blanche!” in a higher decibel than usual. We found jerseys right away, and it was a good thing we had Loic there, because he was able to get each jersey for 4,500 francs (about ten dollars). This price was down from 15,000 francs, which is absurdly high but not unexpected. High prices are a common occurrence for us due to preconceptions about our wealth. We spent some more time walking around and turning down marriage proposals, before heading home.

A couple other markets I’ve been to include Mfondi (mostly food, but a huge market), Acacia (for fruits and vegetables), the Artisanal Market (artists selling jewelry, paintings, and much more) and Marché Mendong (very close to my house and very small). We’ve visited restaurants, learning how to order on our own, supermarkets (whenever we need a taste of home), and my favorite, the fabric store. Learning how to bargain is difficult but very rewarding when you get the price down to less than half. I still need more practice, but I’ll have plenty of opportunities to get it right.

In addition to intensive French, our other classes started today. Each meets once a week for two hours, and this afternoon I have Women and Gender Studies. Next week will be a full week of classes so I’ll have to get back into school mode, after a good two months of freedom. Better get started!

The post you've all been waiting for...

I have finally given in to my parents and Anne Feldman, who are most likely the only people who will read this blog. But really, as someone who has never had enough willpower to actually keep a consistent journal, I think as this might be one of the biggest challenges I will face here in Cameroon. The most immediate of which is the incredible struggle I am having with the keyboard I am attempting to type on at the moment. It is a French keyboard, which means that none of the keys are in any logical order, at least for me. But enough complaining! That is not why I came to Cameroon. If anyone reading this has been reading my friend and blog mentor Anne's blog, they will be pretty much up to speed on what I have been up to thus far. A short review for any newcomers: arrived on January 24, and spent the next week getting oriented with the town, the apartment, the language, and the temperature. Three weeks later and I am adjusting well, much more quickly than I ever could have imagined. Even as I type this the keyboard is starting to make more sense. Just kidding, that might be a constant struggle.

A week after I arrived in Cameroon, I quickly switched gears and moved in with a host family, instead of living in the Dickinson apartment. This has been one of the best decisions I have ever made. My family is amazing, they are warm, welcoming, inclusive, and best of all, patient. They've adapted to speaking slower around me and are really great about helping me with my grammer. I have five siblings at home along with my host mom and dad. My host mom has been teaching me how to cook, and as it turns out, Cameroonian cooking often requires alot more muscle power. Stirring the cous cous was a serious workout! My host brothers love to play the games I brought with me (Uno and Twister were totally successful, thanks for the awesome idea mom) and the whole family loves to make fun of me for how little I eat; something I quickly learned is that Cameroonians eat four very large meals a day. I am a constant disappointment to them thus far in that respect, but I like to think it gives me something to improve upon as the semester continues.

Other than family life and enjoying the company of the amazing nine other students on the program, I've been exploring Cameroon, visiting different neighborhoods, buying fabric and having it turned into clothing, eating more spicy food than I ever though I would in my life, and learning how to do laundry by hand. Something, it turns out, I am pretty terrible at. But there is so much more to learn and experience that I try not to stress about my inabilities (thus far) to eat food and wash clothing like a Cameroonian. That, and avoid sunburn. So I will put on an extra layer of sunscreen and report back shortly. Thanks for reading!