#25

Turning 25 in Africa went a little like this...

The weekend before made a special trip into Bertoua to celebrate with Michelle whose birthday was on the 8th. To her credit and my ever-growing opinion of her, she actually wore the birthday sash and pipe cleaner tiara I made her out and about in Bertoua! Though i've seen a lot of crazier things that nobody bats an eye at. This picture is not only to show you this, but also to proove to my mom that short of promising her to burn my jeans my 25th birthday present to myself bought in her honor was a pair that fit.



Was I a bit nostalgic for home? Naturally so. I did wonder what my first-world self would be doing for this particular milestone. Two birthdays away from home now and there are no complaints that the next one will be in America with friends and family there :). On the actual day organized a scavenger hunt with toys, candy, and dyed eggs for the kids of my muslim women friends. Had a wonderful evening with my friend Idrissou who came over to my house with food and presented me with an embroidered/traditional boubou!



For the handicapped youth that I work with i've expanded my lessons not just into english, but art and science as well. On this day it was our first art day so those present decorated nametags as to give me a glimpse of hope in learning all their names. Thanks to birthday packages was able to celebrate my birthday with them as well. Remnants of birthdays past and a birthday sign that has made its appearance at many parties of mine growing up will now be passed on to Batouri's next generation of kids. The young girl squatting in front is deaf and mute, and one of my favorites who has completely stolen my heart.



Waited until the weekend to have a dinner party so Jessica and Julia could both be there. The menu? Philly "cheese" steaks. Africans, at least Cameroonians, will tell you they don't feel its a meal unless there is meat. Being somebody who does not eat a lot of meat nor cooks it at home, I did give myself a mental high five for all the compliments I received for it. Woke up early to be at the meat market first thing in the morning waiting for the fresh meat to arrive and assure the best cut. Waiting for it to arrive, I perused the rest of the meat market. Meaning amusing myself perusing around to see that days daily selection of bush meat. Typical choses to choose among are viper, pangolin, rat, antelope, and bush cats (a.k.a. bushpussy -yes it amuses me too). Monkeys are not as common, but i've seen my fair share of them.

Right before everybody came electricity went out so immediately got the candles and kerosene lamp going. By this time it doesn't even make me skip a beat. Did not mind at all the ambiance of eating dinner with 12 guests in my house by candlelight - though still will be awhile before I think any romantic appeal for it is back!



Lights came back right in time for cake. Yeah for birthday packages, it was yummy! Blew out candles over the writing of Happy 25 J*Nell after being sung happy birthday to in English, French, and Fulfulde. Barka da Sallah to me!



Beautiful birthday bouquet.



Now for an amusing story of how I tried to make the best of male harrasment, but first a bit of a back story. So moved was I from a girl I knew and her, frankly, preventable death last month to malnutrition that I was inspired to search out projects in town that help in its fight. Now every Tuesday and Wednesday morning I am helping the Catholic Health Center in its malnutrition project. Tuesdays are vaccination day and Wednesdays they give out enriched flour and do some nutritional education. Both days the kids are weighed and their arms measured to be able to chart their progress.

Aaannndd now the story. So a man who thinks he is my friend showed up on my porch one afternoon. He wanted to call a photographer to take a picture of me and my hands and feet painted up, but by then it had all washed off. He persisted that he take me out for drink, but I informed him I was really "occupied" with my sister Jessica at the moment. Having to drag her out of my house to proove it. He then took out a 5,000 CFA bill ($10 USD) telling me to use it to buy myself a drink when I was free. One drink is 500 CFA($1 USD)! We argued over my refusal to take it for about 10 minutes on my porch. Me telling him I was uncomfortable about it and him telling me he was offended I didn't take it. The issue was resolved when I told him it would become a donation to a malnutrition project.

So thank you sir. Your derangement allowed me and Denise to buy food and for once not just talk about nutrition but have the ability to demonstrate in front of their eyes that a recipe with a lot of nutritious components is possible!

It was a one pot meal. Can't remember all that went in, but know some of it included the red (unprocessed and still somewhat nutrient rich) palm oil, dried fish, sweet potatoes, peanut butter, and then we cracked eggs in it at the very end. I promise you, it was tasty.



Knowing the back story makes this picture quite amusing to me.



A five month old being weighed. She is now in the care of her aunt because her mom died two weeks after giving birth to her and after her father ran off. Five months old, less than five kilos (12 lbs). She will be placed in the care of another family if this keeps up because her current track is not sustainable.



This boy was being readmitted. He had fallen back into malnutrition (seen by the circumference of his arm falling into the yellow/danger zone), a point the nurses definetly lectured his father on. With this photo you can see the ledger in which I was noting down weights, arm circumferences, etc.



When kids are admitted their height is measured and their extremities (feet in particular) looked at to evaluate if swollen and if so by what degree.



Update (10/1): Since I wrote about this earlier in my Health is Wealth post, thought to come back in to offer a quick update. Julia's 12 year old houseboy Abdul unfortunately continued to go downhill after leaving Batouri. As of this past Monday he is no longer with us. When taken to a better hospital in the CAR he was correctly diagnosed with hepatitis, but by then it was too late. While I can surely vent on my even more lowered opinion of hospitals here, despite everybody's best efforts - particularly mine and Julia's -nothing could be done.

I have found that these kind of things are something I wouldn't mind at all to remain innocent in. Nope, not one bit. In the way that when all is said and done, I think dealing with these situations will be the toughest part of my African adventure here because it's the part that is just not fun. Not fun because i've never been exposed to them in the way I am here, and what's more the hardest part I feel of my experience thus far to convey back to America. These kinds of situations just are not dealt with there or atleast one can find more proactive care. À la santé !

Ramadan 101

What is Ramadan? Here are a few quick facts to introduce you it.

1. The start of Ramadan is determined by the moon so its exact start is often up in the air until just before it begins.
2. The date changes every year. Islam functions on a lunar calendar. So while Muslim holidays are always the same day on the Muslim calendar, they happen on different days on the Gregorian calendar –typically moving 11 or 12 days earlier each year. In 2010, Ramadan began on Aug. 11. This year it started on July 31 or August 1 I forget.
3. During Ramadan, observers are expected to abstain from food, drink, and other pleasures from dawn to dusk. Removing these comforts from daily routine is intended to focus the mind on prayer, spirituality, and charity and to purify the body and mind.
4. In countries where Muslims are the majority, Ramadan has a drastic impact on daily life. Egypt pushes the clocks back an hour during the holy month so that the fast feels like it is ending earlier and the evenings are lengthened. Work days are made shorter during the month to accommodate the additional time spent in prayer and in enjoying festive meals to end the daily fast.
5. Several different groups are excused from fasting during Ramadan: pregnant women, people who are mentally or physically ill, and sometimes women who are breastfeeding. Children are not obligated to fast until they hit puberty, although many choose to observe the fast at least part of the month in preparation for later years.

My favorite part of Ramadan ironically was the eating! From time to time I helped my muslim friends break their daily fast in the evening by partaking in the fast-breaking staples of bouille (a rice or corn drink) and beignets (fried dough), and then whatever other food was prepared as well. During the day if I was eating or drinking water in front of a Muslim I tried to be respectful by asking first if it would bother them. For a non-muslim, like myself, the best part is the fete at the end to celebrate its completion. Lots of food is prepared and men spend the day visiting each other and inviting others to eat at their house. Everybody is dressed to impress! Jessica and I spent the afternoon with our Muslim women friends and their families and the evening at the home of our close friend Idrissou.









Spent the morning before with a bunch of other muslim women getting my hands and feet painted. They typically do this anytime there is a celebration or marriage.





Close friends that do alot for us. Jupiter our Anglophone friend, Abdoulaye the accountant at my bank, and Idrissou the head of one of the bus companies here. They only look this serious because I tried to get them to stop making faces.



Day afterwards, made the 120k (3 1/2 hour) trek out to Kentzou to see Julia. She is an English teacher like Jessica, and a person I am continually grateful to have in the East.



Prison bus travel, crazy huh? The partition separating the cabin from the back is how it got that nickname. One of two travel/vehicule options for me and the only option from Batouri onward. They are found only in the East and Adamawa regions where travel can be on rural dirt roads. Since we are currently in rainy season the roads are a lot less dusty than it was when this was taken back in February during the dry season. Thus I am not arriving with my otherwise typical "orange glow/fake tan." Typical outfit when embarking on this prison bus travel - head scarf, check. Glasses-check. Jersey-check. Here I am arriving on Julia's porch.









And as I look at that date, better not forget to say...

Health is Wealth

Ugh. It’s been one of those months. Not going to lie, August was not my favorite. In truth, in a way coaxed myself into writing because I didn’t feel I had too many positive things to say about it, but (shrug)what is a blog if not informative. There were no false pretenses that this would always be easy.

First let me orientate you a bit more to this East region I call home. Of the ten regions in Cameroon the East is by far the biggest but the least populated. Of the two major roads, most people live on the main road heading up North. The only one that is paved, save for a few small stretches. This road was completely paved from the Adamawa region on upward (if I understand the story correctly) by the UN to help facilitate aid supplies into Chad. The rest of the East lives in small villages scattered around the second major road, which remains unpaved save for a (whohoo!) 1 km stretch through the main part of Batouri - this up and coming town en brousse (in the bush – more poetic in French).

With its bounty of natural resources the East is the richest yet, ironically, remains the most underdeveloped. In my view I would say this because of a blend of the local population’s mentality and their inability to seize on this opportunity and an ode to Cameroon being one of the most corrupt countries out there. Opinion is still forming on any role in logging/mining companies and corporate social responsibility. Gold is what I see here the most as it is mined in the surrounding area and passed through local hands to people who sell it on up to those who will melt and transform it. Logging is always present as I live on a logging route. Diamonds are also mined, though I do not know of their abundance and have yet to see some myself. Recently, the world’s biggest supply of cobalt was found in the southeast close to the Congo border.

Ok back on topic. Africa and sickness, some would put them as synonyms. Indeed I have seen enough to not refute that. It’s a lot more up close and personal and this month too close for comfort. I kind of admire the way they so easily accept death as a part of life when we in the west do so much to fight against it. It took me awhile to adjust to people so casually mentioning their family members who died, sometimes constantly seeing preparations for funerals in my neighborhood, and just in general the death I have seen. This month I have had my fill of this for a long time to come. It’s something else to now have lived here long enough to know close friends who have lost loved ones and know people who have died.

I’ve seen a fair amount of malnourished kids. It has become easy when I see those with a swollen belly too differentiate between worms and malnutrition – trick is to look at the size of their arms. It’s disheartening to see because although the east is not a breadbasket to Cameroon we have food. We don’t deal with the food security issues in the way that the north does with its more desert/arid environment. It angers me because of lot of malnutrition comes from negligence and lack of education. Now to know of a small young girl who has died of this first thing in August is sad, and definitely makes one think.

Also at the same time I was in town when Julia’s houseboy, a young boy 12 years of age, approached me. He had come into Batouri by himself from a local village to meet up with Julia who was passing through, but they missed each other. Only a glance necessary to know he was really sick. As soon as he showed me his village “herbal” remedies he was taking for Malaria/Yellow Fever I took him immediately to a pharmacist who referred him straight away to a doctor. They didn’t hesitate to hospitalize him for the night to undergo further testing. I’m still left with the image of leaving this sick, tiny young boy with very dark hauntingly yellow eyes by himself in the hospital overnight. Thankfully he recovered right away and blessed to have gotten him to the hospital before it got even worse. We went around getting him his medication before I sent him back to his village and back to his mother. The diagnosis was a severe case of typhoid. However, having him solely rely on me and being responsible for his health, food, and travel (even if for only a day and a half) stressed me out at bit and was a bit of heavy stuff I was not prepared for.

The owner of the boulangerie here in town never takes vacation. He is a self-admitted workaholic and a good friend of mine. As is the custom, when a woman gives birth a lot of times they go back to their village to do so. His wife who he married just over a year ago in May gave birth to their first child a baby boy. We had been discussing her and their son’s soon return to Batouri in a few days, needless to say he was excited. He had invited me to his house to meet his wife and son and told me his wife was informed of this. The next day when I went into the boulangerie was shocked to see it was not him working. His wife had died early that morning and he had taken the first available bus out. He is taking it very bravely and explains that this happens in life, though disconcerting to see him return without a wife and a baby that has been sent to be raised by his mom.

In my previous post about visiting the Northwest, do you see that man sitting to my left under that canopy and that same man standing to my right when I talk about that woman who showed me around Kumbo? That family took me under their wing for the week I was there, and if I lived there felt they would be like family. They opened up their house and took excellent care of me. Calling me their adopted daughter and promising to find me a young man so I would stay and come back to Kumbo. Only in his mid-40s, in the middle of August, he died of a heart attack. It is devastating to his family and to his legit organization, which sponsors local athletic youth to compete in international events.

Family and friends, I would love to tell you I took it all in stride. However, after I found out he died of a heart attack I did reach a breaking point. Just TOO much went down in the first part of August that I felt I could deal with all on my own. I was a bit overwhelmed, one day in particular, into the worst homesickness I feel I have had yet. Not what I had imagined, nor anticipated, a quiet time at post by myself to be.

Things starting taking a turn for the better with the arrival of visitors!!! Visitors are awesome because for a place that sees few outsiders they help validate my presence and for a brief amount of time make my life less of a spectacle, the things I do a bit less bizarre. There can be a constant running commentary and knowledge of when I leave and return to my house, what I buy in the market and who I buy it from, who I hang out with or am walking with, and what I wear etc. With visitors I can get away with a lot more. When they see me with them in town people actually are more likely to leave me alone since they see me otherwise occupied with my “soeurs et frères” (brother and sisters) and if they haven’t seen me for a bit not pester me about abandoning them. The most comments I hear are that they are happy I found another of my kind and especially if I am walking with a man if there would be harassment it becomes dialed down to a bare minimum.

Hanging out in my house.



For a region that no other volunteers have to pass through to reach Yaounde (there is a train that connects the city to the North), visitors are few and far between. If they do choose to take the road they usually spend the night in Bertoua and continue on. In one year we have had three visitors, two of which weren’t even PCVs! Two guys from England passed through on their around the coast tour of Africa. The other spent a night on a quick tour of the East. So it was a nice treat to receive the same amount I had in a year in one visit. The other 5 East PCVs not included. Ben, John, and Jenny were heading into the jungles in the deep East close to the Congo to check out a WWF wildlife reserve. A place few PCVs , even easties, have ever ventured. Of their courageous feat they said they were glad to have done it, but would never do it again. Days of prison bus travel on dusty roads is an achievement in itself.

Ben, Jenny, and I in Bertoua celebrating the first people from my training group to come visit me!



During this trip to Bertoua, I was able to welcome two new volunteers to the East! We spent a few days in Bertoua where I showed them around, introduced places to eat, and helped them buy materials for their houses. Justine took me up on my offer to help one of them move to post. It was the easiest one I have done yet. The two big rooms of her house were virtually empty and were a breeze to move into and set her up in Diang. Michelle had more the move to post to Dimako that I could empathize with. Her car got stuck in the rain, mattress soaked, no electricity, lots of cleaning, and she slept on a hard bench. Two years looked overwhelming right then. Seems just yesterday Julia was outside my house giving me a shoulder rub because I was overwhelmed with the cleaning I had to do even before moving in and we were trying not to freak out from losing a giant spider in my room before going to bed! Only advice I could give to Michelle was to give herself credit for what she had done thus far, not everybody could even make it even to that point.

Justine,me, and Michelle hanging out in Bertoua.



Things continued to pick up. Went out en brousse to see two villages and the work the World Food Program does with Cameroonians and Central African Republic (CAR) refugees and with whom I will work with. Next step is to meet the groups and discuss what I can teach them! I then celebrated the Fete du Ramadan with Muslim friends and made a trip to Kentzou (small village on the CAR border) to see Julia. Thankful the month ended on a good note, but, happy to say, goodbye and good riddance August 2011! No matter what,the show must go on, and I have been reminded this month how much of a blessing that is.

P.S. America thank you for the bon-bons! :D



They showed up on my porch with flowers for me.



I shall end with a quote I've especially identified with this month. "A man falls down a well and calls for help. A passing missionary hears his pleas and drops a Bible down the well. Next an aid worker stops and drops down some money. A Peace Corps Volunteer hears the man screaming, drops down a bag, then leaps into the well. “What are you doing?” asks the startled man at the bottom of the well. “I’ve come to live with you,” the PCV replies."

Shifting into Second Year

Well its just me at post for the moment. Kind of interesting and a little different to experience Batouri as if I was the only white person. Jessica is coming back from the States and Jackie has now left for good (a little earlier than anticipated having qualified for interrupted service - all because of a little crazy man, but more on that later...) Being back at post and now since having crossed the half-way point, it seems completely bizarre to be saying now that everything is down hill. Merde, how did I get here? Its made me reflect on the year that has been and for the first time go back and read all the blog posts I have written thus far. Its entertaining to especially read the first months where I was wide-eyed and trying to take in everything as it came. Most of that stuff hardly garners a second glance now, which takes a bit of the fun out of it (lol, but thats me saying this now)!

In one year I have moved continents, immediately had to adjust to living with an African host family and soak up a lot of information in ten weeks, moved myself out East, and adapted to the craziness that is travel here. I have worked my way through a million sorts of frustrations establishing myself in Batouri and being one of very few people white people, and dealt with more harrassment than I can mention. Made an African house a home, think a warm bucket bath is a treat when bathing, learned to live without stable electricity or running water, come to enjoy washing clothes by hand, and just accepted that internet might never be stable as I went the first few months without and the last few with having it more freqeuent but for only 10,20, tops 30 minutes at a time. I attempted at climbing a mountain, been robbed at gunpoint(for which a scar on my elbow will always pay permanent memorial to from a dive under a table)and lost my first camera, been to London,and became a brunette - sadly for only like two months, I kind of liked it. Apparently can now carry a conversation in French without needing a dictionary as a clutch, sufficiently gone through enough electronics, and may have pulled out more hair than necessary in the process but found some work, finally. Had my house broken into and lost a second camera, been home, been to Zurich, seen a lot of things I wish I hadn't, and some how along the way unwillingly became a little wiser in the matter of that thing that beats inside all of us and the lengths it takes us. No, never the funnest being the innocent one with the most to lose. Its only a nutshell but there is so much more I can write or can't think of since they don't faze me anymore. Its been a big year of adjustments, hard to believe it can be summarized in such few words.

What's more, i've also met some of the most open, wonderful,and loyal people who have given alot of themselves to welcome and help this stranger out without expecting anything in return. Been treated to the best hospitality, been fed lots of food at dinners until my sides hurt, never not been without protection or help when I needed it, and treated to some of the most nostalgic cultural experiences. One was sharing a hearty laugh with my muslim women friends as they asked me to show them how to tweeze their eyebrows. They laughed themselves silly until there were tears from seeing themselves for the first time in the magnififed side of a mirror. Another was dancing the night away with children who were teaching me African dance moves who also personally took on the task themselves of protecting me from male derangers. Anytime anybody now sees me in Dimako (a village in the East) i'm now referred to as "la femme blanche qui dance avec les enfants". The white women who dances with children.

Now i'm already into my second and final year. Started ticking off my list of "last things at post" with the recent start of Ramadan. Having now been through the big adjustments/ frustrations the feeling is not one of crossing a finish line, but that of letting go of a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Its refeshing to be more relaxed at post where you do things they way you want to do them and not because its what you feel a volunteer should be doing. Any volunteer could tell you this but we all agree one must find it for themselves.

And, i've already started back at work! Taught my first associations this past weekend. I would love to tell you all they were riveted and hanging on every word. Its going to be an interesting challenge trying to convince someone who sells braised fish on the side of the road the importance of knowing your strengths and weaknesses to better market yourself. Although a guy who sells used clothing did ask me what he can do if all he sees are the weaknesses of his business. It may have been a question out of discouragement, but to see me would have been to see me with a huge smile on my face doing an inner happy dance. Where, sir, have you been all this time!? The reaction may sound mean of me, but its a good step just knowing them. And hey that's what i'm here to help them improve on. Those kind of questions will keep me coming back!

In my abscence, one of the girls in the handicapped youth group underwent surgery. Was told that when coming out of the anesthesia this 5 year old girl started repeating some english I had taught them. Saying "Hi, my name is Janelle. What is your name?" or naming off the colors, even purple which was hard for them. How can that not make me proud or pull on my heartstrings. I think this is only the beginning of long and a fruitful relationship!

So I started this blog just as a personal record for myself, it didn't matter that anyone would read this. Although several months ago I added a ticker just to see if anybody was, and turns out someone was! I'm this far in and suprising myself sometimes that i'm still plugging away at this (thank you grandparents for the encouragement on that). Amazed that i've in certain ways come to kind of enjoy this and it turns out to be a big support that people keep tuning in. So thank you. You, you, and yes EVEN you are appreciated :). Whether you've held out since the beginning or joined in along the way, stay on because there are lots more adventures to come. The real fun is just beginning!

Life as of Late

Finally back to Batouri! Nice to be home and be settled. Although to get there was several days of deep cleansing. After an extended absence the outside of my house was like a jungle. Lots of grass in front of it and in the back the grass grown so tall and so thick that some of that vegetation was coming in through the windows! Inside was not as bad as expected but still lots of dust to wipe off and sweep out. Chose the height of termite season to take vacation apparently thus I had lots of sawdust from them munching on my wardrobe to clean up and several coats of liquid insect repellant to apply. Where does one begin to clean? Well if you're me it starts immediately with cleaning/re-filling the filter, washing sheets and towels, then turning on some music, grabbing a bucket and broom and going at it!

So why the extended vacation? Lots of things to do this summer! First, I was invited to be in a collaboration project with Renee another volunteer in the East before she left to go home to the States and a guy in her village who makes honey. We were to help with french translation and specifically me with business opportunities. The project was to take place in Kumbo in the Northwest region at Greencare the host institution of Patrick an agriculture volunteer. We spent two full days learning about the different techniques of beekeeping and proper maintenance of hives.




And here is the group shot. I have no shame in admitting at this point it had been two days without a shower. I take cold showers but with the humidity its refreshing, but here I was up in the mountains where the water is ice cold, brrr!



Was shown around Kumbo by this women who in edition for working for ELECAM (which organizes Cameroon's presidential elections)is the head of a women empowerment group/ngo. She spent the day taking me around to different women empowerment centers and to their meetings. Not even a week in the northwest and I could have had work! Go figure.


The northwest is a beautiful region. Very green, rolling hills, and on the drive up to Kumbo was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few waterfalls. Had a very nice relaxing afternoon outdoors getting to know friends of Jake, another SED volunteer from my training group I was staying with. No double takes necessary. Yes your eyes do not deceive you, that is me holding a baby [click to enlarge]. Never thought I could come to love children as much as I have African children!




Jake, his friend Mark, and I chilling after a long day of honey talk and French-English translation.



Other volunteers came in on the weekend and it was nice to see a lot since I don't see too many that often! Here I am with Liz an education volunteer up in the Extreme North and one of my closest friends here :).



Kelly, a fellow PCV friend, who is a volunteer that lives in Bamenda the Northwest regional capital also stopped by for a visit that weekend. She invited me to stay at her place for a few days to let me check out for myself the city other PCVs refer to as "Little America." For those of us other PCVS living out of the West,Southwest, or Northwest(which have a lot more noticeable development)we denote those volunteers of living in Posh Corps. Bamenda is situated in a valley of sorts and while out to dinner with others, the gaze can't help but drift to the scenery and some of the waterfalls off in the distance. By contrast to the East, the Northwest is one of the most populated. Most 30 of its volunteers live within a 2 hour radius of Bamenda. Was floored to find they had a coffee shop/espresso house! Didn't feel like I really was in Africa at all for the moment, but did leave sooner then expected once the place became too inundated with too many white people who were speaking English. It kind of weirds me out to see a lot of expats, even a lot of Americans in one place speaking English that aren't PCVS because i'm just not around that here. Exploring the market, I don't know if they were new to Kelly or not, but I hadn't yet come across Lychee's in this country. Bought some to try and because of their eccentric exterior, had to have some fun with them first!







This year's theme for the American Embassy's Fourth of July party was the Peace Corps 50th Anniversary. With this in mind 50 Peace Corps Volunteers were invited to attend the event. Julia and I were there representing the East. The Ambassador's speech explained our history, our purpose, and highlighted our work. Was quite proud when asked at one point to raise our hands if we were PCVs and was touched when everybody around me turned my way and offered their thanks for my service or service to their country. Afterwards us PCVs participated in a flash mob with a few other embassy workers dancing to Springsteen's "Born in the USA." Was definetly a different social circle socializing with a diplomatic crowd. It was fun just going about to random people and starting chats. Alot of them had never been to the East before or had images it was being mined of all its natural resources and rapidly deforested. It was this way that I met the Director of the British Council and his wife. They were so kind as to invite me to dinner the next day and serve me foods they knew I couldn't get out East.

With over 50 PCVs in Yaounde it was more than Peace Corps was able to host. Some workers at the Embassy opened their homes to us. Another volunteer and I were signed up together to stay at the Defense Attache's house. It was America. Since they can shop the embassy store, when I opened the fridge they had things like Cool-Whip, Tollhouse chocolate chips, and American cereal. They treated us extremely well and gave us tons of food for the two nights we stayed there. Here I am relaxing at their pool before getting ready and heading to the big fete.



While I do hate spending a lot of time in Yaounde, this go around was quite interesting to say the least. During routine medical check-ups got the all clear. No parasites or such! One day I was in PC meetings all morning to then be picked up by a car from the British Council and taken to lunch with four other british expats and then spent the rest of the day sipping tea and watching tv on a couch. The next I was at a World Bank NGO Fair with a another PCV supporting Jake as he was trying to help his NGO qualify for a grant of $10 million CFA. The World Bank is trying shift its image and focus alot more on NGO funding at the grassroot level. Then the next on the radio after a reporter followed me and another PCV around in Casino (largest supermarket in Yaounde)for a piece he was doing on expat purchasing habits. Yep, days can be really random and rather unpredictable at times here.

Before heading back East, decided to take the weekend to head back to visit my host family in Bafia for the weekend. They were very proud to host me. My mom is a very good cook and made all of my favorite foods I had while living there. Kim is the volunteer currently living there while training. Sitting in exactly the same spot I occupied a year earlier.

Homeward Bound

If I can only say all what I wish, but here goes...

So, what happens when you live in Africa and one of your best friends whom you have known since sixth grade gets married? No question, I go home! This couldn't be yet another one of those photo updates on facebook I constantly see that I wasn't apart of. The journey included an overnight flight to Zurich, a 12 hour flight to San Francisco, and then a hour flight into Ontario, CA. The dusty ruralness of Batouri to the crowded, organized metropolis of Southern California was an immense jump, but once your're home, it's home again immediately and it feels like you never left:). Cameroon seemed far away, although went through major deja vu for the first few days. Best moment on the trip home besides being welcomed by my entire family at the airport was going through customs in San Francisco and being greeted by scenic montages of the USA on tvs followed by random Americans on those same screens saying "welcome to the united states of America!"

As soon as I landed, things kicked off right away! First morning I was up at 3 am. Coming from Eastern Cameroon where the supply of food can be lacking in diversity, I went to entertain myself in those early morning hours by making some tea and rooting through the fridge. I opened the refrigerator a good 20 times getting excited over foods such as a bag of carrots, blueberries & strawberries, feta cheese, and cereal!

Though I was too happy to worry about any reverse culture shock, in the short time I was home I did notice I complained a lot less. Coming from a tropical climate with no air-conditioning, I never thought to complain of the heat and in fact found myself bundling up in restaurants or turning it down in the car. My sense of vanity has changed. My beauty regime is a very simple one. That of slathering on lotions to combat the sun and constantly having to wash some form of sweat or dirt off my body. For me feeling feminine is wearing a piece of jewelry and a dash of perfume. It doesn't really differ from that. Getting a mani/pedi, haircut, daily wearing some form of makeup, blowing drying my hair, and dressing in clothes I could never wear a post felt a bit of a luxury. Though on the other hand, being back in an environment where people were much more occupied with it than I'm used to was a bit of an adjustment. Also I had to constantly fight not to litter and feel terrible about it the first few months in Cameroon, but now the role reversal was I had to fight my first inclination to roll down the window and throw trash out!

I will feel regret if I do not mention how much I was impressed and overcome by the immense support I received from my family and friends while home, both from near and far. Although I may be tucked in a rural corner of the world, it was refreshing to know that I was not forgotten and in the short time home it seemed I was able to step right back into my life. Those fears were definetly quenched. There were many interesting questions and a lot of people asking for stories. Everybody was very encouraging and understanding that to live on her own for two years in Africa is just something crazy enough Janelle would do.

Two frequent questions I received: "Are you having fun/excited to go back?", and "would you do it all over again?" I was excited to go back. Refeshing to be home and to share my experience with friends and laugh and be teased about everything from coming home and finding my trash spread across my front yard, my inability to keep a camera, and even some of the harassment I receive. It made me realize that this really is all an adventure, so enjoy it as much as possible! Its not forever, a unique experience to see first-hand this way of life, and there is definelty stories to be told! Reconnecting with family and friends and receiving their support I know will help me through the most difficult part of this experience - the ruralness/isolation that living in Batouri can sometimes bring.

I have never regret coming. Not always a cakewalk, but overall enjoying myself. Great experience in life to have. Would I do it all over again? If I was going to be a new volunteer most definetly. However, I feel after my second year of this I will be ready to move on to something different. Something a bit less remote with an easier connection home. True fact, those grad school applications have been started!

And here is the awesome time that was home (unfortunately its a summary not everything. Loading pictures took more time than I had so I had to resort to pulling the lazy card. To see me salsa dancing, bachelorette partying it up, and with other friends out and about thats just have to be left for facebook) ...

Too many people to see, too little time! Hosted a dinner party and here are some of my wonderful friends who could make it who were in the area. My friend Andrea offered to bring dessert. Knowing her love of cooking delectable desserts didn't hesitate to accept the offer, but never imagined her showing up with these cakes!


Some of the thoughtful things I was welcomed home with. The cake toppers to the now deflated balloons that greeted me at the airport and a bouquet of flowers from Adeline. My mom once asked me to choose a charm that would make her think of me. I chose a U.S. passport.


The wedding was up in the mountains behind where I live. On the ten day forecast everyday was warm and sunny, save for the actual day of the wedding - cold and drizzly. Thus ceremony was moved indoors. Luckily things cleared up and the sun came out in time to take pictures. Gave it a try at curling my hair and wearing high heels for the first time in over a year! My parents were also in attendance.


Wedding, check! Time for relaxation, I think not. I passed the rest of my time at home making sure I got to eat what I wanted and see who I wanted. Not an easy task! I enjoyed a social life that was dramatically different then what I have been used to, but I was busy, busy, busy. Options to do in the evening?! Weird. I did make it to the beach :D Important things to notice in this picture besides the beach, the fact that I am wearing shorts and something white!

I miss having places to go to where I can chill out, study, read a book, etc. Places that aren't bars or a place that draws a lot of attention to me. Here I am with Menaka, one of my best friends, enjoying a long overdue catch up chat over coffee.


Then before I knew it, time to head back. Had with me some good food, supplies, and a replaced camera and computer! Geared up again for several long hours of travel, but was able to have enough of a layover in San Francisco and my Uncle Jeff free at the moment from work that he was able to pick me up and take me out for lunch. Right before another 12 hour overnight flight back to Frankfurt, on the Airbus 380 (largest passenger plane in the world!).



But, wait! Vacation wasn't over just yet. It being my fourth time passing through the Zurich airport, I decided what better time then the present to go out and explore the city. As you can imagine, in this experience Zurich will always hold special memories. Both going to London and home it was the first and last development I have seen. It was a good choice. Zurich was a fun time. For all that I have lived in Europe, I was happy to finally be seeing it in summer! Sightseeing, eating at outdoor cafes, lounging in parks, meeting a lot of people from all over the world, retail-therapy at my favorite European stores. Best place to meet people? At a pub wherever there is a football (soccer) game. This time it was Switzerland vs. England. Brought my camera out for a bit of the adventures.




Needed proof it was me taking the photos! Although at this point up 30 hours and counting and trying the technique of staying up and waiting till dark to sleep - well, I hit the pillow hard just a few hours after this was taken.



Then it was back to Cameroon. Not even an hour back in Yaounde and I made my way over to greet the new SED/ED training group who were staying at the exact same hotel I was a year ago when my training group first arrived. They were asking me a lot of questions and it was weird to seem the expert! My advice to the newcomers, keep a sense of humor, don't be too hard on yourself, and try your best to stick through the initial frustrations-they will pass. Now with a year under my belt the second year advice to myself is to get out of post, as much as possible. I feel accomplished and happy to have taken the first year to be at post learning french, becoming well integrated, and finding work so I can feel I have contributed and left something behind for Batouri. Fabulous. Cheers to hopefully the hardest part of this experience being behind me! Now when i'm at post I can benefit from all of that grunt work. However this experience is really what you make it, and now its time to experience more of Cameroon!

Happy Canada Day!

So you want to join the Peace Corps...

The following link is to a video that has gone Peace Corps viral on volunteers facebooks all over, definetly so in Cameroon. I wanted to share this with you all, but as to not be yet another person who posts this on facebook, I will avoid that and go straight to the blog. Its entertaining because its pretty true. Many of you who I keep as regular contact as possible with will recognize some of these, uh, challenges/experiences, haha. Being sick, just wanting to help, keeping a journal for a bit,internet, making it through a day, projects going down! So I thought to share with you my lovely friends and family just how life can sometimes be in Cameroon for a Peace Corps Volunteer put to the words in a youtube videdo called "Poop in a Hole" by Pacific Love from Peace Corps Vanuatu. I myself have a toilet at my house (but have used many latrines) and it made the African homeowner in me very proud when I finally got a toilet seat that didn't break the first time I sat on it!

Because i've proven myself not technology savy and the slowness of internet against me, i will just post the links and see what happens. You might have to go search for it from the link given. So enjoy, and I hope you find it amusing as we do here in Cameroon!

Yep, life is not too different ;) ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koUWaAr-itY

So on a random note, a Kenyan/Brit visiting Batouri while in town to see Ed's tobacco company awhile back gave me a phrase in terms of African colonization that I repeated to a volunteer today. That the English left an institution, France a language, Germans left buildings, and the Belgians...disaster. The Cameroonian among us agreed and it sparked quite interesting a discussion. So far from what i've learned/seen from living here where Cameroon as been colonized by three out of those four countries I can't disagree with that. So I promise more blogs coming soon than just the once a month! Summer travel is keeping me busy, but I am now equipped with a new computer and internet key :D