The Death of a Chef

The old chef, or chief, of Dschang passed away 2 months ago, which meant his successor was finally allowed to leave the compound! Here are pictures of the ceremony.

On the right, you can see the giant blow up tub of margarine. It was strange to see a lot of modern marketing like this at such a traditional event.



There were several different traditional dances. The first of which was not really a dance as much as people walking extremely slowly looking about eerily with their masks.



There were also people prancing about with swords.





The new chief is the big guy in white with the hat under the umbrella:

Coaching a Girl’s Soccer Team in Africa

I started coaching a girl’s soccer team in my village as a women’s empowerment initiative that is much needed in this extremely male-dominant society, but also just to have fun playing soccer again. We play for an hour and a half 2 days/week and every time there are boys on the sideline who practically beg me to let them play. I try to say no to all of them, but sometimes it’s honestly hard to tell who is a boy and who is a girl. By law, everyone at the high school has to shave their head to cut back on lice, so everyone looks exactly alike in their matching Cameroonian #9 soccer jerseys (the jersey of Cameroon’s best soccer player, Eto'o). This also makes it difficult to learn their names, which are unusual to begin with.

Most of the girls show up to play in jellies or other plastic sandals, while others play barefoot. Occasionally, someone will have actual running shoes, but it’s rare as these are harder to clean after a day of running on the dirt field and Cameroonians must have clean shoes for some reason. I will try and post a picture of the team soon!

Cameroonian Gas Station

Is it dry season already

I have been waiting and waiting for dry season to arrive, mostly so my clothes will dry in less than 5 days, which is hard to do when it pours every single day. The last few days, however it hasn’t rained at all – precisely when I actually needed it to rain. A few days ago, I went to fill up my bucket with water from the tap outside and nothing came out but a few precious drops. Apparently there was something wrong with the pipes. Every day since, the technician said he was going to come, but in true African style, he didn’t come for 4 days. Thinking he would fix it sooner than later, the only thing I did to find water was to strategically station my 5 buckets around the yard to hopefully catch the rain that never came. Meanwhile, dishes were piling up and I started rationing my drinking water until I finally decided I needed to search for water. I armed myself with some of my buckets and set out to find a water source in the village. As I was wandering around I luckily bumped into the technician on his way to my house! I’ve never been so happy to someone.

Running in Cameroon

Whenever you need a pick-me-up, going for a run in Cameroon is the best. The village paths are filled with smiling people waving and cheering in French and the local language “Good job!” and “Keep it up!”. Every once in a while along the way, you get a clan of school children who start running with you. One time I had about 20 of them following me for a good mile. You can’t help but smile and wave back, repeating “Merci, merci!” to everyone like it is a huge accomplishment to go running.

Scenes from the Village

View of Bangang



This is the NGO, called ACREST, which I am working with in an attempt to harness the power of the waterfall in town to generate cheap electricity to the villagers currently living without electricity. Other things that ACREST does is sell fuel-efficient stoves, natural water filters, solar fruit dryers, and electricity generated from the waterfall, wind turbines, and solar panels, as well as using biogas for stoves.



This is the microfinance institution, called MC2, which I am advising. They are all over Cameroon.



You can sort of see the waterfalls in the top right hand corner of the picture on the rock face.

Tu es la?

It is extremely common in Cameroon to ask someone if they are there (“tu es la” in French). This question is always asked when you are clearly right in front of the person posing the question, so at first I didn’t really know how to respond other than a quizzical expression. Eventually, however, you are no longer annoyed at the many obvious questions people ask and not only start to get used to them, but actually begin to enjoy them. It’s one of those things I can really only enjoy while here in Cameroon.

My new home

This is my new house! I am on the second floor. The goats live on the first floor.








This is my bedroom. You can sort of see the hot pink silk sheets I got made for $5. Everything you buy here is custom made because they don't have really stores, just tailors and carpenters.

I’m a Volunteer!

After 3 months of training, the Peace Corps thought we were finally ready to be volunteers. After swearing-in as volunteers, we all left the next day to our various posts scattered across the country. I loaded up a bus with my 3 huge suitcases, a water filter, and a bike and trekked across country. It took over 7 hours and multiple forms of transportation, but I eventually made it to my site.

Once there, I had to turn around to go back to the nearest city to buy everything since I can’t find much in my village. There I bought a stove, a gas tank, a broom, pots, pans, plates, etc and then attempted to bring all of that back with me to my village on an hour long moto-ride in the rain. The ride is a really pretty one with great views of the mountains and waterfalls, but it is also terrifying as the dirt roads get super slippery and the road is narrow.

Eventually, I made it with everything to my site, but then I had to set up my gas stove. It took an hour to get the hose to the gas tank on the stove and then 5 minutes into cooking dinner, there was a small explosion underneath the stove. Apparently I didn’t get the hose on well enough and there was a gas leakage. Never fear, another hour later of trying to fasten the hose to the stove, I finally safely got the stove to work sans explosions.

Goodbye Bafia

This is the barber shop in town that was always blasting out Tupac.

The dreaded Forage

I no longer boil my well water, but instead go to the forage (a pump) about 15 minutes away to get my drinking water. The good part is that I only have to filter the water without boiling it. The bad part is that carrying all those gallons of water back to my house is nearly impossible. The forage is only open in the morning, so I have to wake up around 5:30 am. There is always a line, which I used to get preferential treatment because I am a foreigner, but now I have to wait like everyone else. Then, there’s the challenge of bringing the water back: do I carry it in my arms or go native and put in on my head? Well, the first time I just carried it and couldn’t really feel my arms the next day since it took my about 45 minutes to get back to the house. The second time, I put in on my head and almost threw out my back.

Mango Flies

On a good day, it takes me about 2 hours to wash all my clothes in my buckets from the week. I have a soap bucket and a rinse bucket that gets soapy pretty fast, so I replace it frequently with more well water. The laundry must be done in the morning so it can dry in the sun all day for good reason…when the sun goes down, the mango flies come out and lay their eggs in damp clothes. If you don’t iron your clothes before you wear them, the mango fly eggs will crawl in your skin. When they hatch, they pop right out of your skin. Needless to say, my clothes are far better ironed than they ever have been.

Washing our bed sheets is part of Peace Corps Cameroon policy and it takes forever. I am convinced my sheets are dirtier after washing them in the brownish well water, dropping them a few times in the red mud as I try to hang them up to dry, and then dragging them on the ground while I try to iron them so I won’t get the mango flies.

Someone stole our running water

My homestay mom told me that a couple of bandits stole their running water a few months ago. I could not understand how that was possible until she explained that running water is controlled through a box that is on the road and someone stole the box!

Family Photos

Papa Goiffe, me, Mama Rose, Popina, and then the kids: Christian, Wilfred, and Olivia. The other picture is my homestay sister-in-law, Babette

Please note the matching pagne that Olivia and I got made together

The Sorting Hat

On the much-anticipated posting day, our director pulled out The Sorting Hat that would determine our post. We each pulled our name out of the hat one at a time and pinned it on a map of Cameroon. I got a small village in the mountains in the West province, called Bangang, which is not on any map.

About my post: Bangang is nestled in the mountains covered in rain forests and waterfalls. The dirt is deep red and gets everywhere, which is especially a problem because my house has all white tiled floors…Other than that, my house is amazing! It is owned by the South African ambassador, so it is definitely the nicest house in Bangang. I have four goats and chickens that my guardian who also lives in my compound looks after. I have two bedrooms, two bathrooms, two balconies, a living room, and no kitchen. I got lucky because I have running water and electricity, which is doing pretty well for a rural post. I also have a postmate a little ways up the mountain and plenty of other volunteers within an hour of me, which will be really nice, so I am pretty excited.

Wyombai

There are over 50 different local languages in Cameroon in addition to the national languages of French and English. Sometimes there are similar words shared between different languages, but they do not always mean the same thing.

In the local language of Bafia, people say “Wyombia” to say “good morning”. However, the Bassa people living just south of Bafia say “Wyombai” to say “you are ugly”. My homestay brother-in-law, who is Bassa, said the first time he came to Bafia he was pretty insulted as everyone waved and called out “Wyombai” to him!

I find a lake in my room

I have a well right outside my house, so I thought it would be easy and efficient to get a lot of water from the well and boil it to drink. That was my first mistake – it took over 3 hours to boil the water, meanwhile my mom had to go and fetch some firewood to make an outdoor fire so we could eat dinner that night while my giant pot of water monopolized the stove. The water didn’t cool until the morning, so I filled my 2 gallon water filter that the Peace Corps gives us to the brim and left for school all day, which was mistake #2. I came home from school to find all my boiled and filtered water on my floor…apparently my water filter leaks from a small hole in the bottom! I spent a good hour soaking up the water with my towel and ringing the water out in a bucket. Luckily, the duct tape I used to repair the hole is working somewhat now.

Pineapple Town

We left the relatively temperate climate of Yaoundé to the steaming hot city of Bafia, also known as Cameroon’s pineapple town because the pineapples are extra sweet. I got placed with a great family - a retired old couple living with their daughter, daughter-in-law, and 4 grandchildren. We have electricity most of the time, but no running water. Luckily, there is a well right outside our house that I can easily fetch of pale of water for my bucket showers.

Back to Africa

After a day of Peace Corps orientation in Philly, a day en route through New York and Brussels to Yaounde, I finally made it to Cameroon! We had a few days of training in the capital (Yaounde) where we were not allowed to leave the hotel except for one hour one day. I did not get to see much of Cameroon at the beginning, but it was a good chance to get to know all the 43 other people in my stage (training group) and meeting some of the already volunteers passing by Yaonde. There are 158 total volunteers in Cameroon presently. At first, I couldn’t believe I was back in Africa and it felt like a flash back to my time studying abroad in Madagascar, but now it feels totally normal, almost like I never left.