I guess
it’s time to share the truth. Among PC Volunteers in Cameroon, Bamenda (the
city right down the hill from where I live) has earned the nickname of
“Bamerica”. And while it will never be mistaken for New York (or even Newark),
there are many small reminders of home to be found, if you know where to look.
This morning for breakfast I enjoyed a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats (with
Almonds!) that I bought in the Bamenda Main Market. There’s a restaurant here
that my friends and I visit almost weekly where you can order mushroom pizzas
and Greek salads. It’s the best.
And in the interest of full
disclosure, my apartment Upstation is probably (read: definitely) nicer than
anywhere I would be living if I were in America right now. It’s a new building (read: no roaches yet)
that almost always has consistent electricity and running water, which is a total anomaly in this country. For
comparison, our training was held in a city that had no running water at all. In order to get my water I had
to go outside and pump it from the underground well and sometimes wait for the
privilege to do so. But here in Upstation, I just turn on the tap. And most of
the time, water even comes out.
So I’m very grateful for the
apartment that my counterpart found for me and that Peace Corps is willing to
pay for. But the interesting part is that I often find myself feeling guilty
about my new digs for reasons that I’ve only just come to term with. I’ve
realized that this guilt is two-pronged: I feel bad that my standard of living
is higher than most of my neighbors, and I feel that in some way I’m not
getting the true “Peace Corps experience”. Well, I’ve been trying to get over
both of these hang-ups recently. It turns out that most Cameroonians live in
urban centers, just like in America. And although the definition of urban
definitely means something different here than it does back home, the idea that
we’re working towards development means (to me at least) that there’s no reason
that my neighbors or I should have to live without taking advantage of the
resources available to us. It’s a step towards progress (and isn’t that the
real goal of development organizations like the Peace Corps?) when the citizens
of Cameroon have access to services like electricity, cell phone reception, and
Internet access. And as for the comparison between my way of life and the PCV
norm-well, that’s just not something I’m willing to feel badly about any more.
The reason that all of these
feelings are coming out now is because my lifestyle got even better this week
when I got a hot water heater installed. That’s right, hot showers are now a
reality in my apartment. What a game changer. (side note: the process of
actually getting the heater installed was
worthy of a blog post of its own. Let’s just say that the process took 4x
longer and cost about 2x more than was promised…) But at the point when I
decided to commit to this project, I definitely felt guilty, most likely for
the original reasons listed above. And then I thought about it a little more
and realized that this was just one more way that I was trying to instill some
familiarize my new life here. And then I realized that a lot of the volunteers
do the same thing, just in their own ways. My postmates have gone on record as
saying that if they couldn’t have had Wi-Fi installed in their home they
wouldn’t have stayed in Cameroon. Another volunteer nearby went out and bought
both a TV and a refrigerator. (he then sat out in his porch drinking Coke with
ice in it and the neighborhood kids thought he had added sugar cubes, as they
had never seen ice cubes before). I showed up to a PCV party the other day to
see that one of my friends had used a hair straightener to prepare for the big
event.
Without a doubt coming to Cameroon
has meant giving up some of our “first-world” luxuries. There are some
Volunteers that live a much more traditional lifestyle without electricity,
running water, or even cell phone service (ironically, the biggest deal to many
Cameroonians). But it’s been interesting to see how my peers and I have adapted
to life here and/or adapted their lives here to fit their needs. Definitely
something to think about the next time I’m taking a steaming hot shower.
The other recent news is that I
travelled from post for the first time this week since I arrived here in
November! Some friends and I met up in the West Region to celebrate the
time-honored tradition of Galentine’s Day (I’ve been told it’s a Parks and Rec
reference, but have personally never seen it…). The public transport system in
this country is a little amazing. Not necessarily in a good way, but I did
safely get there and back. A big difference is that (with very few exceptions) there
isn’t any schedule for when buses leave. They leave when they are full and you
just kind of have to show up and hope for the best. The other main difference
is how helpful everyone seems to be (at least to obvious foreigners) and
surprisingly honest they are. I had pretty much no idea where I was going and
all I had to do was walk around and say the name of the place that I was trying
to go. In no time at all I was shown to the correct bus/taxi/private car that
would take me there. And although the rides
were far from comfortable or pleasant, they were consistent and I got to all of
my destinations without any real problems. My last note on transport in
Cameroon is that the lack of schedule gives them an impressive degree of
flexibility. It is totally acceptable to ask the bus driver to stop and let you
off at any point in the voyage, something my fellow travellers took advantage
of far more often than I would have liked. For an American used to following a
set travel schedule, it was often an exercise in patience.
But as frustrating as the travel
was, Galentine’s Day was a huge success. There was brunch food, far too much
boxed wine (something I thought I had left behind in the States), and a healthy
amount of cuddling withmy White/Wild Rice (our training class’ nickname)
friends. It was great to see them and be able to check in on how everyone is
doing. We finished training almost three months ago and it’s kind of amazing
how much our lives have all changed since then. But seeing them was a great reminder
of the support system I have here and gave me a chance to get away from post
and step out of the spotlight. We may have different first-world indulgences,
but a lot of our major struggles are similar. And I think that we were all able
to agree that the hardest part of being here isn’t the physical aspect. It’s
the daily attention we get, the persistent phone calls, and the constant
feeling of still being an outsider. And of course, we were able to enjoy some
Velveeta-dipped homemade pretzels (“it’s just like Auntie Anne’s!) and play
some questionable Jenga together. There’s a reason they send us here in teams
of 55 people. Some of them turn into family.
TL,DR:
I’m realizing that a successful Peace Corps service doesn’t require depriving
myself of all the comforts of home. And so have many of my friends here. But it’s
still not like being in America.
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