Pigs and Tomatoes

It’s rare that I have a hard time coming up with material for my blog posts. For the most part, life here is filled with experiences that force me to actively think, critique, and offer my take on, which is where this blog comes in. But aside from a few chuckle-worthy moments, the past week or so has been just…typical. One of these moments came just earlier this evening, when I was making my frequent trek up the hill to my bean/beignet mama (see a much earlier post where we teamed up for an evening). Our transaction is well polished at this point; I ask for 100 francs of beans and 50 francs of beignets, and she “dashes” me an extra beignet, a small gift. I smiled, thanked her, and started back down the hill towards home when I became aware of a neighbor that I had never seen before: a full size pig. Of course, she wasn’t alone; a man who I presumed to be her owner accompanied her. But there was no leash or other restraint to be seen, and the pair was just walking past the beignet hut on their way to some unknown destination. The boys that hang out around the beignet hut didn’t even try to restrain their amusement over my surprise; I guess it isn’t every day that you see a giant pig startle the neighborhood American.

           

My daily commute: casual training for the Race of Hope.

Aside from my occasional run-ins with the local fauna (today’s pig encounter wasn’t even the first case this week!), life is solidly back to normal in my part of the world. Lacking any major cultural or social activities to report on (teaser: the Peace Corps social event of the season is coming up this weekend!) I’m going to do something I never do. I’m going to write about work. Other than Ebola, the main inquiries I received about my time in the Peace Corps while back home focused on the professional aspect of Peace Corps service, the supposed reason why we’re all here. And honestly, it wasn’t a question I really wanted to answer. I can’t speak for my fellow PCVs, but my work situation here has always been confusing at best, frustrating at worst. As I’ve come to learn, a PCV’s work projects tend to be primarily self-directed, with exceptions of course. I’ve met some incredible people in the Bamenda region over the past year, but I can admit to struggling when it comes to finding motivated and active work counterparts. Only now am I finally at a point in my service where I feel like I’ve identified people with whom I feel I can have a successful work relationship.

            Augustin approached me a few months ago at one of the Unity Farming meetings at which we were two of the only attendees. He told me he wanted to start commercial-scale tomato production, and asked if I would be able to offer any assistance. Over the next few weeks he told me a little more about his plans, and we met with two agricultural technicians together to discuss logistics. Throughout these meetings I realized how I felt my service could be productive in a city as developed and bustling as Bamenda: by connecting people to resources that are already existing but they were previously aware of. In Augustin’s case, that meant accompanying him to a seed distribution store, going through the seed catalog together, and discussing the merits of hybrid seeds. Honestly, I’ll never be the local expert on seed selection in the humid highland climate of Bamenda, but I can certainly be the link between a farmer and someone who is.

1,500 tomatoes look like many more in the field than they
did in the nursery!

            A week or so later, Augustin invited me to come up to his farm and see his tomato nursery. When I got up to his farm (a beautiful 10 minute motorcycle ride from my house) I was unimpressed. He had two raised trays of baby seedlings, and I doubted that he could possibly have the 1,500+ plants that he was aiming for. But last week I made a return visit, about five weeks after my original one, and was blown away. Two trays of seedlings had turned into a field and a half of closely spaced plants, and they were all meticulously staked and tended to. Augustin invited me to his vegetable group meeting a few days later, and I was impressed yet again. The group (Hidden Treasures Vegetable Farming Group) seems serious so far, and all the members are currently growing tomatoes and other crops. We discussed the necessity of a 2.5 million franc loan (about $5,000), and as far as I understood, the group decided that the timing wasn’t quite right. Next on the agenda is a practical demonstration of natural insecticides, and I’m optimistic that our partnership is headed in the right direction.

Round Two isn't quite like Round One!

As I discussed in my last post, my month-long vacation in America was pretty incredible. I spent some much-needed time catching up with friends and family, which I really enjoyed. But I also spent a not-insignificant amount of time simply astounded by various aspects of life back home. Smooth roads! Pizza delivery! 24-hour pharmacies! Credit cards! There are so many parts of American that I didn’t even think to miss during my first year in Cameroon, but found myself astounded by. As my trip grew to a close, I started to worry. Could I really come back to Cameroon and say another yearlong good-bye to all of the wonderful parts of life in America?

            So far, it’s looking like I can. I’ve been back in Cameroon for nearly a week now, and I’m happy to report that things have been going well. In some ways, I think that returning to Cameroon in some ways validated my level of confidence and familiarity here. I returned to Cameroon a week ago over a year after I first arrived with 54 other trainees, and it felt different in so many ways.

            This time around, the drive between the airport and the city of Yaoundé wasn’t nearly as terrifying. I was confident that we wouldn’t hit any of the dogs that were crossing the street at random, and driving through the Yaoundé outskirts in the middle of the night felt…almost normal. I spent a few days in Yaoundé trying to get over my jet lag, (turns out that taking two consecutive red-eye flights isn’t conducive to an easy transition between time zones) and I was surprised by how normal it felt to be back. I ate a spaghetti omelet, hit up a Cameroonian grocery store, and even remained calm when the cashier informed me that she didn’t have any of the necessary change to give me after my purchase. It turns out that a month away from Cameroon was, in many ways, exactly what I needed.

Side note: Getting change is a near-constant problem in Cameroon. Banks usually distribute 5,000 and 10,000CFA notes (about $10 and $20, respectively), and many daily purchases are for less than 1,000 francs. Vendors are always “begging” other nearby merchants to make change for them, and I’ve been unable to make purchases because I didn’t have a small enough denomination. One of the days in America, I tried to buy some apple cider doughnuts(!) for $6. I only had a $20, and I apologized as I handed over the bill. She looked at me like I was a little crazy and said it wasn’t a problem at all. Of course. Thanks, Cameroon.

            After my time in Yaoundé, it was time to head back to Bamenda. I had two heavy suitcases and was a little worried about the logistics of getting everything back. But as they say: “Cameroon, where nothing works but every works out” and I didn’t have any problems. I “depoted” (hired the whole car) a taxi, who brought my straight to the bus station and even guarded my bags while I bought my ticket. After a casual seven and a half hour ride, we arrived safely in Bamenda. I was able to convince the driver to let me off within walking distance of my house, and as luck would have it, one of my favorite taxi drivers was just pulling in. He loaded my suitcases into his trunk and we headed straight to my house, where he insisted on helping me carry them up into my apartment. Nothing like door-to-door service. After a quick rest, I headed out to greet some nearby friends. I didn’t pass too many on my way, but many of them greeted me enthusiastically and expressed how long “I had been missing for”. I explained that I had travelled home, and nearly everybody inquired after the well being of my family.

            When I arrived at my friend Bridget’s house, she nearly ran me through the door as I entered in her enthusiasm. Her husband and daughter were also in the room, and they all greeted me with excitement that rivaled that of my real family back in September. It was incredibly humbling and made me beyond glad that I had decided to return.

            So far, my emotional level hasn’t dipped too far below that. Cameroon isn’t getting under my skin in nearly the same way it did before I left, and I’m hoping that this positive energy sticks around for quite a while. I’ve been realizing that there are also parts of life in Cameroon that I had missed (well, am glad to return to) and that the phrase “not worse, just different” is definitely applicable to my life these days. In many ways, my life in Cameroon and my life in America seem to run in parallel in that they feel entirely separate, but both with their respective advantages.   

           

In a related note, this month marks the beginning of my second year in Cameroon and the halfway point in my service. Both of those are milestones that I’m proud to have reached, and have got me thinking about my goals for the rest of my time here. Per my family’s request, I even have a blog related goal-I’m going to try to take and include more pictures. I’ve been hesitant thus far because picture taking tends to make me feel like a tourist, but I’ll do my best. No pictures for this post, but it is something I’ll strive for.

America is Pretty Great.

As many of you know, I spent the past month in America visiting with friends and family and enjoying the comforts of life in a developed country. It was an incredible month, and a much-needed break from life here in Cameroon. I’ve been thinking about how to best condense my time in America to one manageable blog post; it was a month unlike any I’ve ever experienced and certainly overwhelming at points.

            The best way I’ve come up with at this point is to think about my time back home is through the lens of gratitude. On a larger level, I’m incredibly grateful that I was able to take a month-long vacation from my responsibilities as a Peace Corps Volunteer and travel back to America to enjoy the comforts of home. I’m grateful both that I get to call America home and that I’m getting the chance to live in a place that’s nearly as far away as it gets, both geographically and functionally. But I want to talk more about the smaller parts of my trip back home and how grateful I am for all of them.  

The Carleton Arb: still one of my favorite places in the world.

            I was worried at first that a month back home would be too long-there was potential both to grow bored of the amount of unoccupied time or become too comfortable and refuse to return. Luckily, neither of those happened. I broke up my time stateside with a trip out to Minnesota for the wedding of two friends. The wedding was originally the impetus for the trip-I couldn’t bear the idea of missing out on the reunion of so many people that I care about and an opportunity to return to a place with countless wonderful memories. In practice, the trip was everything I needed it to be. Most importantly, I got to spend a couple of quality days just hanging out and catching up with some of my favorite people in the world. A case of scabies (not me!) only added to the excitement, and an attempt at seeing the Northern Lights provided a perfect excuse for a late-night venture into the Arb. I’m incredibly grateful that my friends found the time and resources to make their own trips happen, and that we were able to share some time together.

Some of my favorites celebrating our friends' wedding

            But as great as my time in Minnesota was, it was only a small part of my time back home. My parents and I (and our dog Zoe!) started off my time in America with a few days at a cabin in Vermont, and it was pretty ideal. The leaves were beginning to change but it was still warm enough for swimming. We made a detour to my favorite bookstore and stopped at my favorite cidery for a tasting. In short, my parents indulged all of my America cravings to the best of their abilities. And being reunited with my favorite pup certainly didn’t hurt the situation.

            The rest of my time back home pretty much followed this pattern. I got to see many of my favorite people, do many of my favorite things, and eat most of my favorite foods. Food is something that Peace Corps Volunteers love to talk about; both in the context of what we’re able to get here and what we miss from life back home. I got all of my favorites, from bagels and lox to Chipotle, bison burgers to raspberries. My mom even brought my favorite Chinese food to the airport when she and my dad came to meet me. This is a woman who has gone on record as saying “food is love”.

Jake struggles with his apple picking
 related obligations

            So thanks for a great month, America. Thanks for reminding me that life back home goes on while I’m over here. Thanks for showing off your finest fall colors during the short time I was able to enjoy it. Thanks for reminding me that public transport can be pleasant, and that I don’t always have to be home before dark. Thanks for bringing so many important people back into my life, and for giving me enough distance from Cameroon to appreciate what I’ve learned here. As for my return to Cameroon and my next year of service, game on.