The social dynamic in the Peace Corps can be kind of funny
sometimes. Actually, let’s be real. It’s always kind of funny. I think of some
of my Volunteer friends as my Cameroonian family and they definitely function
as an important support system. I’ve known them for less than nine months, and
they’re the ones I call when Cameroon is just too much at a given moment. They
were the ones holding my hand as I braved my first Cameroonian hospital
experience, and the ones who feel comfortable completely oversharing their
bathroom woes with me (a recent text informed me that one of my friends is
currently “fighting the poos”). Thanks, guys. But as great and essential as my
Peace Corps family is, they’re still no replacement for my real family, as I
was reminded last week when my brother visited.
I didn’t quite know what to expect from his visit. Until
that point, my only interactions with my life in America had been over the
internet, phone, and in very sporadic
letters/care packages (yes, there is something you could do about that…) But in
all seriousness, Jake and I hadn’t spent any significant time together in
recent history, and we haven’t lived together for years. It was uncharted
territory.
I headed to the Yaoundé airport in the middle
of the night to meet him and the two of us barreled through the city back to
our hotel. Arriving in a new place at night can always be a little surreal, and
I remember from my arrival in September that this holds especially true for Yaoundé.
During both airport arrivals the vehicle I was travelling in almost hit a pack
of dogs. I hope that’s enough to give you the beginnings of a picture.
Jake would
be able to give you a better idea of his emotional state upon first arriving,
but I was just glad to see him and that he arrived safely. Better yet, he
seemed mostly unfazed by the craziness surrounding him and was prepared to
tackle any plans that I had made. Lucky for him, my postmate Cynthia had
forbidden me from herding him onto a bus the next morning (after arriving after
midnight), so we slept in and spent a chill day in Yaoundé. He got an
introduction to Peace Corps transit house culture and even attended a
“gonging-out” ceremony for Volunteers that were about to close their service and
head back to America.
We couldn’t
avoid the Cameroon public transport system forever and boarded a bus the next
morning headed for Bamenda. It’s a beautiful ride, passing through what Jake
described as “jungle” and (although I usually sleep though it) I would claim to
be more of a savannah. The recent attacks by Boko Haram have caused the
Cameroonian gendarmes and police to tighten their security, and our bus was
stopped three times for identification card inspection. I hope this eases some
of your anxieties about the security here, but it was definitely a hassle for
those of us here. By the time we were stopped for the third time, I thought the
Cameroonians on the bus were about to start a riot.
Our time in
Bamenda passed quickly and pleasantly. My neighbors were beyond excited about
his arrival and wanted to feed him as much as possible. Many people (throughout
his visit) were quick to point out our physical similarities, which was
something I wasn’t expecting. Other Bamenda activities included a trip to the
market (the one time he seemed visibly overwhelmed), having matching pagne
clothing made, lawn games at the Bamenda office, and dinner with my postmates.
It was a great way to spend a weekend. Before I knew it, it was time to leave
Bamenda and head towards the coast.
We made it
to Tombel without any problems and Jake enjoyed his first ever motorcycle ride
(three people on a motorcycle with two giant suitcases-quite an introduction).
My friends Anna and Ben wasted no time making us feel at home and even made us
dinner out of a mix from Ben’s recent trip to Nepal. Before this trip my only
experience with Tombel ended in a trip to the local hospital, but I still have
nothing but positive feelings towards the town. It’s sticky, mosquito infested,
and a good hour out of the way, but Anna’s hospitality and general positive
energy more than make up for it. After a brief morning hike, we were off to Kribi,
via the economic capital of Douala. I should mention that Peace Corps
Volunteers are strongly discouraged (forbidden?) from spending any significant
time in Douala. I’ve heard a variety of statistics concerning Douala and they
all center on the general unpleasantness of the city. Apparently it’s on the
Top 10 List of worst cities in the world to live? Cameroonians love it, though.
Our time in
Douala was more than manageable, although we were delayed a bit due to some
sort of disagreement over reimbursements and number of passengers on the bus.
Pretty typical. But it became clear that the two-day ride down to Kribi was
more than worth it immediately upon arrival. The drive into town is right
alongside the beach, and we could see many Cameroonians out enjoying the
afternoon. Our hotel was tucked off a side street and sat directly on the
water. Anyone who has had a quiet beach vacation can probably imagine how
wonderful our time there was, but it seemed especially relaxing compared to the
craziness that Cameroon throws at me on a regular basis. We ate lots of shrimp,
took a motorcycle out to the Kribi waterfalls, and got caught up on our
reading. I can’t think of a better way to finish out Jake’s tour of Cameroon.
And several
dozen bug bites later, Jake was onto the next phase of his travels: Europe. He
was a trooper throughout Cameroon and definitely kept his cool better than I
ever could have expected. In same (embarrassing) situations, I found myself
more frustrated by life here than he seemed to. But I guess that’s a by-product
of the amount of time that I’ve lived here and the short nature of his visit.
Either way, I’m so glad that he was able to have a small glimpse of my time
here and gain some perspective on the craziness that life in Cameroon involves.
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