Real Cameroonians Wear White.

       A few weeks ago I wrote about the ways that I've been spending my time other than working. And it's true, the month surrounding Christmas was a little bit of a dead zone when it came to any official productivity. But in the weeks since then I've finally started thinking about my time here and the ways that I want to spend it. Before the holidays, I had two main tentative work partners: Heifer International Cameroon and the local Government Bilingual High School. Heifer (here's it's pronounced high-fer) is the organization that I was officially assigned to by Peace Corps-I have a desk at their office and an established line of communication between Peace Corps and my supervisors there. But as I'm quickly learning, there's an incredible amount of flexibility in Peace Corps service (at least in Cameroon), and it's primarily up to me to figure out which work partners that I'm interested in working with.

         My assignment with Heifer is a little confusing-I've been assigned to work with a farmers' group that has already been "weaned" from Heifer's official program and is now (ideally) functioning independently. They have already received their gifts (in this case dairy cows) and related training. I've been quite impressed by the comprehensiveness of Heifer's program so far; they work to incorporate all potential factors of success for a small-scale farmer. The farmers that I work with all received a package that included (for each farm family-there are 20 in the group) their own heifer, materials to build a shelter to house it, seeds, and gender relations and HIV/AIDS awareness training. Heifer strongly encourages zero-grazing feeding systems that, for all of you organic and local food lovers out there, is the opposite of free-range practices. I was a little confused when I first heard this (having also come from a culture where free-range animals are prized so highly) but have now learned the advantages of such a system for dairy cattle that must be milked every day. In addition, zero-grazing systems allow farmers to have better control over an animal's diet and access to it's manure, which can be spread on farm fields or used for biogas production (more on that another time). Basically, animals being raised on such a small-scale don't have the same negative consequences as their counterparts in larger-scale operations.

           I'll be the first to admit that there is a lot about life in America that I miss and wish Cameroon had (there are no bagels here. literally unacceptable. and don't even get me started on taxi etiquette). But when it comes to the way that Cameroonians treat their livestock, Americans could learn a thing or two. Granted, the entire system is completely different. More than half of the population depend on agriculture as their primary source of income. But this means that Cameroonians have a dependency to each and every animal under their care. The health and productivity of each animal is extremely important and requires constant monitoring. In the farmers' group that I work with, the gift of a heifer (female cow) has been literally life changing-their average family salary before their gift was approximately $200 annually. Now, (with careful planning and care) they are able to produce between 6-10 liters of milk per day (earning between $2-4) for 10 months of the year. That's already $900. If they are able to get their heifer pregnant each year (which Heifer encourages all farmers to do), they are also able to sell the offspring for between $600-1200, depending on gender and size. Of course, there are expenses associated with livestock care, and not all of the above numbers are strictly profit. But the amount of benefit that each family receives is undeniable and continues year after year. The differences between a farm that works with Heifer and one that does not are visible (of course, farmers working with Heifer tend to be innovators and may have already been at an advantage). But all in all, I'm feeling fortunate to have the opportunity to work with an NGO that is doing such impressive work.

            I've been (at least in name) been working with Heifer for a little while now; I think my first day there was in early December. But more recently I've started an additional side project (turns out that working as a Heifer extension agent is far from full-time) at a local health clinic. The process by which I've continued to meet people and learn about new organizations is interesting and circuitous-I've passed this particular health center almost daily but didn't know it was there until one of my neighbors invited me to show me her workplace a few weeks ago. It turns out that she works (as a statistician?) in the HIV/AIDS department of the health center (which is much more comprehensive than I would have expected). The health center is religiously affiliated (which I was initially trying to avoid), but I've come to realize the importance of religion in everyday life to Cameroonians and have made my peace with it. Side note: I'm asked almost daily about my religious views and if I'm a church-goer. To their credit, my answer of being Jewish and that "they don't have a church for me here" seems to satisfy most people, and many continue to invite me to attend their church. In fact, my Francophone neighbors are so committed to their weekly worship that they attend services each Sunday…in English. 

            The most casual aspect of my work at the moment is the semi-regular tutoring sessions that I have with some of the children in my neighborhood.  They're relatively informal and take place one-on-one, but they've proved to be a good way to get to know my neighbors better and spend some time learning from each other. We primarily work on math (it's basic enough that I still remember enough to help them) and today I started working with my next-door neighbor on her English homework. Luckily, the subject of her exercise was elephants (why elephant vocabulary is deemed essential for a basic level English class is beyond me), as I gave a presentation on elephants in French during Pre-Service Training. So I even had the corresponding French vocabulary to use as necessary. I've noticed recently that it is quite common for students to be held back a grade or two, which creates a wide spread of ages in a given classroom (this seems especially true for girls). In my neighbor's family alone, the oldest boy is at least two grades ahead of two of his older sisters. 

            So there are finally some work projects showing up in my life, but it's important to have some playtime as well. This week brings the end of the month and other Volunteers in the region to town as they come to collect their monthly living allowance. The advantages of living in a major banking city are numerous, but this might be my favorite. Seeing friends from stage about once a month is a frequency that allows us to stay updated on each others' lives (without running up huge phone credit bills-the phones here are all pay-as-you-go) without interfering with our individual integration in our communities. And for me personally, I get to see my friends from the other parts of the region without having to travel at all. That might sound like a drawback (as I'd previously assumed that I would want to get out of my village each month), but the condition of the roads is generally pretty bad and even short trips can be quite time-consuming (and motion sickness-inducing…).

            Another recent highlight came last week, when Edith and I finally caved and each bought an ice cream bar. I know that it's the end of January and probably the middle of winter for most of you reading this, but here we live in a never-ending summer. This time of year is dry season (the dust is choking and inescapable) and it gets pretty hot during the day. I've probably lost all sense of temperature by now (although I used to be quite proud of my ability to survive/sometimes enjoy Minnesotan winters) but my first ice cream in months was borderline incredible. Some might call it a game-changer. Also counts as another benefit of living in a big city (many small towns have soft-serve ice cream machines, but we've been warned of the dangers of associated amoebas and I haven't wanted to test my luck). A last note on the topic of dry season: I've been starting to work with the farmers' group in my village, and attended a group meeting early this week (an hour in, not a single person had shown up). But I was surprised and pleased to learn about how common awareness of climate change is here, even among rural villagers. One of the group members expressed his worry about the timing of the rains and the recent unpredictability, which he attributed to the changing climate. This is my first experience with dry season, but I've been told that it is supposed to last from November to March or so. Which made the recent rainstorms that we've had all the more surprising. I wasn't expecting to see any rain for at least another month or so, but it's rained twice in the past 36 hours-quite strange. No snow yet though.

TL,DR: I'm finally back to (or starting…) work and as expected, things are slow to get off the ground. But I'm continuing to learn about my community and get to know my neighbors and other people around town. It's kind of like being a celebrity without doing anything to deserve it. So I guess it's just kind of like being a regular celebrity these days.

P.S. Got a care package from home last night-guess who has more maple syrup than she knows what to do with!? Turns out there are advantages to having parents that buy it in five-gallon increments. 

            

Beans and Beignets

When I was a kid there was this farm a few towns over that used to sell fresh doughnuts on the weekends. Honestly, I can't say that I remember them all that well, but I do remember that it was exciting when we used to go get some-we could watch them come off the machine hot and fresh and then get dipped in cinnamon sugar. And then one day they sold the property and had to close the farmstead and doughnut operation. My family stood on line for over an hour the last weekend to get some of the last doughnuts that they would ever make. So I was excited to learn that the beignet culture in Cameroon was still strong and there are beignet mamas to be found in all of the villages that I've ever been to.

One of the first people that I befriended in my neighborhood was the woman who sells beans and beignets (and fried fish, but I have no plans to ever buy it) up the road from my house. And although I don't patronize her shack as often as she might like, I pass her on my way home each evening and she's always friendly and quick to greet me. And as I mentioned in an earlier post, Mama Marguerite is always generous with her dashes, giving most customers an additional beignet (or puff-puff for the Anglophones out there). So a few weeks ago I asked her if she would be willing to teach me how to fry beignets, and she readily agreed. I reminded her of this yesterday, and she told me that I could come and learn from her this evening. But she took our lesson a step further, and invited me to come help her make the beignet batter in the afternoon at the church where she lives. I showed up not knowing what to expect-I've seen quite the spectrum of kitchens and food preparation in this country so far. But the kitchen was reasonably clean and she seemed to have a pretty set process for her preparations. As she was setting up I learned that she's been selling beignets for the past seven years, so it makes sense that she has the whole process down by now. Most of the preparation had already been done by the time I arrived, but she quickly put me to work mixing the dough. And we put the phrase "made by hand" to a whole new level-I mixed the dough using most of my arm as the mixing spoon. She makes a lot of beignets and the batter took up almost half of the (smallish) garbage-sized barrel that I was mixing it in.

But the real fun began after we brought the supplies halfway down the hill to her little shop. She had a herd of small boys that helped us carry everything down and get set up. One of them made a dirt/water mortar to rub on the bottom of the frying bowl-I think it protects the bowl from the flames, but I'm not sure on that one. Mama Marguerite started the first batch of oil, and demonstrated how to quickly throw a spoonful of pancake batter (she has quite the array of products) into the oil so it sits right. My first few attempts were a little too cautious and resulted in small circular pancakes (silver dollars, if you will). At this point, a few people had wandered past and remarked on the oddity of seeing me in the hut trying my hand at frying. I've been living in my neighborhood for just about two months now and it seems like most of the people that live in the area are aware of my presence here, as I don't exactly look Cameroonian. So my new role as beignet assistant was quite entertaining, especially as I struggled to deliver the perfectly circular beignets they've come to expect. I watched Mama Marguerite a few times and wanted to try it myself, but it was a serious strugglefest. Dropping beignets into hot oil is a tricky business, and involves "cutting" little drops of dough out of a goopy fistful by squeezing batter through the hole between your thumb and forefinger. And of course, it's not as easy as it looks. None of my beignets were the same size, nor were they round or smooth. Most of my creations were lumpy, oversized, and the customers looked at them with surprise. Mama Marguerite was quick assure everyone that I had made them and was obviously still learning. But as the evening went on I slowly improved. My beignets began to resemble their more ordered counterparts, and although they weren't exactly right, they were at least passable. I ended my stint as a beignet-maker with a healthy respect for the craft and the knowledge that my talents lie elsewhere. But it was a chance to interact with my neighbors in a different setting and give them the opportunity for them to see me try something new. And even though my time selling beignets was even shorter than my time selling bagels, it wasn't a bad way to spend a Sunday evening. Now I just have to get the batter out of my clothes.

TL, DR: I spent the afternoon making and selling beignets with my local beignet maman. My beignets were kind of a mess, but it was fun to spend the afternoon trying something new and getting to know more of my neighbors. And they all had a good laugh at my expense.

Off to Work?

I was talking to my dad recently when he mentioned that a lot of people have been asking him when I'm going to start my "real work" as a PCV. It's possible that no one has asked him this and that was his subtle attempt to remind me why I'm here and encourage me to get my work projects going. But in case any of you are wondering and have been asking him, it's true that as of late, my days (or weeks) recently haven't really been spent working, at least in the traditional sense. In my defense, it's been the holiday season and it seems like much of professional Cameroon essentially shuts down for the last (and first) few weeks of the year. And that's not even taking into account personal leave, which many of my potential work partners have been taking in conjunction with official holiday leave. So I have used the past few weeks to get myself settled into my community and (more) comfortable with life in Bamenda. I've never really lived in a big city before, and having one at my doorstep (or 10 minute moto ride) is a new experience for me. And it's not like Bamenda is anything like any city I've ever visited before. I wish I knew of a better way to explain how this city is like, but all I have for this post is to say that the holiday season (or just Christmastime here) in Bamenda is even more stressful and chaotic than it is in New York. And I didn't even think that was possible.

But I have been (fairly) busy these past few weeks. I found my way to the other side of the city and learned that in order to get to Bali, it's necessary to take a "bush taxi" (basically paid hitchhiking) with five other passengers (I had the misfortune to find one with an obese woman occupying one of the four places in the backseat with me). A friend and I made some pretty delicious zucchini chocolate chip coconut muffins with the zucchini that we bought at the NW Agricultural Expo. And I spent Christmas trekking across my village and back to fulfill my social engagements (and was served rice on four separate occasions). I've had my 1000 CFA notes ($2) refused because they weren't in good enough condition (the moto driver didn't want to hear how unacceptable that would be in the US), and finally found the orphanage that (turns out) is less than 500 feet away from my door. I finally had a sofa made (an adventure in it of itself-it was delivered sticking out of the trunk of a taxi!) and started to make my apartment feel a little more like home. I started making social calls with a friend and her family and visited my first Cameroonian hospital (An experience that is worthy of its own post, but I'm sure my Health PCV friends have some better insights in their blogs). And maybe the most important (and dreaded) milestone of all-I finally succumbed to my first major sickness in Cameroon. I'm doing much better now, but being sick alone in a foreign country is no fun at all.

I'm still very much thinking about time passing on a seasonal trajectory, and the lack of "real" seasons continues to frustrate me. It's been hard to miss the weather updates coming from the Midwest recently (my mom went as far as to forward me the Carleton parents email chain about the brutal temperatures this week-someone's having a hard time letting that period of my life go…) and my brother just moved to Wisconsin this past week, so I've been wishing him luck from afar (this is a boy who chose his college based on which schools he could wear shorts at year-round). But here the weather patterns are as different from there as could be and we only have two seasons-wet and dry. Right now we're solidly in the middle of dry season and I've never seen so much dust in my life. The afternoons are hot, and the evenings cool (but not cold, as all my neighbors seem to think). A bunch of PCVs got together to celebrate New Years Eve with a barbecue at the Bamenda office for some grilling and lawn games. It was much more reminiscent of 4th of July than NYE, but a great way to close off the year with friends that I haven't seen since stage.

As the New Year begins I'm hopefully going to be getting my "official work projects" going and starting back up with Heifer. As new PCVs we're also required to submit a Community Study/Assessment during our first three months at post, and the deadline is coming up more quickly that I would like. So the new few weeks will be spent gathering data and trying to piece something useful together to present to my stagemates at In-Service Training in February. So it's seeming like the time for playtime is going to have to be on hold (of sorts) for the immediate future, as I try to figure out which projects are worth investing time in over the two years. Stay tuned for news on the work front (I promise that it'll come!), but rest assured that my time here isn't being wasted. And if you're in the US (at least the East Coast and Midwest), enjoy the snow for me. We're severely lacking in it over here.

TL,DR: Any work projects have kind of stalled these past few weeks as Christmas and New Years hit in a big way. I managed to fill my time in other ways and had my own series of small adventures. And I'm writing this from my new custom-made sofa in my own living room (of course, I don't have internet at home yet, but that's a challenge for another day…)!