Peace Corps Blogs: To gloss or not to gloss?

Last night I got into a heated discussion with a few other Peace Corps volunteers about the role our blogs play, and whether choosing to portray mostly the lighter-hearted aspects of this experience is considerate  - to those back home, as well as to our host country’s image - or irresponsible, giving a romanticized, even dishonest depiction of our lives to those who are trying to decide if Peace Corps is for them. We debated: Do our friends and families want to hear the more complex, gritty realities we are entangled by here?  Will they be able to understand our frustrations with the systems/culture/attitudes without context, and be enlightened without undue worry?  Can I possibly articulate the un-PC issues facing me as a young white woman in Africa without being offensive, judgmental, or sounding prejudiced? Or is it better to give our wider reading audience a soft landing and keep the darker side of the story stored away in journals, discussed among fellow volunteers, or divulged only to an intimate few?

Anyone scrolling through my own blog can tell that I’ve taken what may be the easy way out. Lots of picturesque photos, tidy anecdotes and mostly passing mentions of the challenges without in-depth disclosure or analysis. Many of you know I love to write, and while most of my deeper reflections are kept off the blog, I have scores of Word documents detailing the incredible highs and disturbing lows that fill my days, of the unanswerable, aching questions I have about why this place is how it is, how I, and “we” as Westerners fit into its past and future, the sides of myself I’ve had to come to terms with here, and the messiness of our global situation that I had never witnessed so rudely, and now don’t know how to reconcile.  

Why not share some of these pages of real, raw emotion? In fact, I dream of doing just that and will be looking for ways to publish a more rounded, contextualized account of what this journey is like, taking on issues that for now seem frankly too dense and personal to encapsulate publicly. “It’s not blog-ready”, I always feel, but I suppose that’s cheating, and a worn-out excuse. Perhaps I am just acting out of fear and unease in avoiding tackling the sensitive, sore topics that affect people here so deeply and have made my own conscious much more disorderly. I tell myself that it’s because I want to do them justice, take time to sort through all my musings and ramblings and put together a cohesive, meaningful discussion of my misadventures here and what I see going on beneath them. Whether or not I can ever do that remains to be seen, and I’m probably not doing my readers any service by skirting what’s beneath the surface just because I don’t feel like I can properly  weave it together as respectable prose.

This is by far the most personal experience I’ve ever had, and for now my writing is mostly personal too.  But the short time I have left, and my awareness of how much I haven’t said, is prodding me to shed my trepidation and shine a light on some of what I’ve recorded.  I’ve struggled for the past two years with feeling incapable of writing openly and honestly on my blog, and as if I am hiding within my own comfort zone as a writer in not wanting to describe the elements of Peace Corps that push me outside that comfort zone. But they are many, and important to my own growth and how I’m coming to view culture, history and development. So I am making a goal to let myself and my writing be more exposed and vulnerable in the hope of contributing something to the ongoing pursuit of asking questions and seeking answers.

Back to school season in full swing

 

Saturday was a workday at the Social Center where 60 kids and counting live, but the payoff was worth it. We hung mosquito nets over all their beds - malaria is a HUGE problem in this area and they've been promised nets by the government for years and never seen a one. This summer during our camp an NGO Peace Corps works with managed to donate these, and getting them up was a great back to school hands-on project for the group - complete with a little chaos and the 60 various ways kids went about tying them to their beds. Who doesn't love a canopy bed?
Did you know, nets are so important because malaria-carrying mosquitos only come out from dusk to dawn?

  

 

 

 

Birthday / back to school party for my scholarship recipients was a blast - friends and the birthday girl's twin daughters came along, and my banana cake and chocolate chip cookies shockingly got rave reviews -- rare when we share American dishes.



After net-hanging, it was a soymilk and tofu-making demo for the older students and personnel of the centre social, including all the women who cook for them and who I'm hoping will work soy into the repertoire.

 

We start with dry soybeans, pick out all the rocks and bugs, soak them overnight, grind them, then squeeze out the milk.

We boil the milk, sweeten it for soymilk, or continue by adding vinegar which makes it coagulate, and you get a thicker cottage cheese-y substance that you then press...

The best part is, nothing goes to waste. The remains after you squeeze out the soymilk are pigs' favorite food...and there were plenty around to enjoy this batch.

After pressing, cutting, and frying, they taste just like chicken nuggets and no one believes there is not meat inside. They were thrilled to learn - the process is a bit tedious, but most of their food prep is, and they have the time, but not the money to buy meat, which is why this is a perfect fit.

 

Four of us nearbye volunteers, one staff member (my dear friend Natalie, far right), and the WONDERFUL new director of the Center in the middle. Dream team  : )

There is nothing I love more than being asked to participate in some ceremony, photo op or social occasion solely because my whiteness is believed by the organizers to lend some prestige or credibility to the event/institution. This happens a LOT, and is quite blatent, bizarre and uncomfortable...but a definite reality of the strange racial interplay / complex alive and well here. My expression tells my unease at being asked to give a speech to a potential donor visiting an organization that I have just become a member of?! Hmm...bit fishy. I am also insanely jealous of the beeautiful African mask he is being given.  



Now this part I can get into: spontaneously requesting to show off the songs I taught these kids this summer, to add a little life to the ceremony.

Up up and away! Last blast of summer - visits to the beach and the north

 

This was such a memorable day in Gangassaou, visiting Allison in her element - she is the epitome of an amazing and effective community health worker! I accompanied her to her health center's monthly vaccination day, where we talked to new mothers about the various shots their infants needed, and what each did. A local health worker translated from her French into the local dialect. It is a big deal for these women to leave their compounds and walk around town, so they get beautifully dressed up for the occasion! I am in love with all the color.

 

Between downpours, groups of moms ventured home from the health center...each one has a baby tied to its back with yet another piece of matching fabric, and then covered to protect from the rain.
A few hours later when I had to head back out to Ngoundere to take the overnight train, it was pouring rain, and finding a car to hitch a ride with (that's the only system) was looking like a long shot. Finally a beat-up pick-up truck with three large bulls squashed in the small bed came splashing through the mud, and in a flurry we'd hailed it down and I was sitting in the already-crowded cab. My face was nearly smooshed against the glass panel behind me, and on the other side was the side of the head of one of the bulls, absolutely shoved into the window, his eye looking right into mine, and his horns threatening to burst through and gauge out my throat. You really never know how you'll be getting from point A to B here, after a while you only care that you make it in the end. And I did!

 

Rhumsicki, Extreme North region - on my March 2011 visit this place was total desert.

Another awesome village visit, to Gashiga in the North Region, where my former region-mate Shane got reposted a few months ago. His chief just happens to keep some camels, and we came across their sleeping quarters on a morning walk. With necks and legs as long as his, that's as close as I was willing to get! As you can tell I am adoring the sun up here - at my post it is still rainy and overcast most days as wet season moves through its last month. The blue sky and brightness up here was rejuvenating.




Does it look to anyone else like they could easily step over that meager gate? What bizarre, striking animals! The mosques in this town were also stunning, and the natural plateaus surrounding it were gorgeous - I could not get over how green the landscape was compared to my first visit; gave new meaning to the term Sahel, semi-desert.



Peace Corps Cameroon's new Youth Development program organized a National Girls' Forum in the beach town of Kribi, to let volunteers, their local Cameroonian counterparts and representatives from various organizations talk about issues, challenges and best practices in helping empower the young women of Cameroon. I got to present (in French!) on the income generating activity trainings I did last May and talk about the power of helping young women work toward economic independence.



It was an awesome experience and I got lots of questions and interest afterward. In the weeks before the conference, my computer's keyboard had stopped working because of how humid it's been (imagine leaving your soap on the edge of the sink and travelling for many days, only to come back and find the soap is still wet, and the little splashes of water from when you washed your dishes days earlier are still there on the floor!). So I found an on-screen keyboard application, and typed the whole presentation one tedious mouse click at a time. Thank goodness a volunteer visiting the US brought me back a replacement...and I must share that I'm proud of myself for having the guts to open up my computer from the back, take out at least 20 screws and various pieces, and fit in the new one. It works!

Two of my best Cameroonian friends - Jacques and Natalie are absolute lifesavers and dedicated to lots of community causes. After the conference each day we got to hang out by the beach and then eat fish in town later on -- I was glad to be able to invite them to this event as a thank you for all they've done for me and my work.




Hike above Maroua, the capital of the Extreme North region - check out Katie's henna! 30 minutes previously, my camera took a terrible tragic fall into a river we had to cross to get up here...and I totally flipped out trying to find it in the murky waters. When I lifted my head from thrashing around, I saw that a whole village full of children had plunged into the water to help me! One of them finally found it in the sand...but you can guess it's fate. Such a wild, frantic and in the end funny moment.



One of the northernmost posts of any volunteer - Catherine lives just a few km from Nigeria in the Extreme North region. Bright sun ushered in the morning communal prayer reflecting the end of Ramadan, signalled by the sighting of the new moon the night before. This was a day I'll never forget!



The women were all in the back behind the men of their families including their very young sons, some of whom seemed to be distraught and confused at the required separation. I could not stop gazing adoringly at their beautiful scarves...luckily they were happy, eager even, to have us take photos. It helps that it was a tiny village where everyone knew Catherine, so the whole thing was very familial and friendly - one of the best parts of being able to travel here, having other volunteers posted all around whose community connections offer an immediate "in".



"I forgot to put my shoes outside....Dad's gonna kill me!"



Time to call in the pros...I desperately needed help pulling off this look!



Touring all of Catherine's friends' houses for cake and popcorn, peanuts, and here a delicious lunch of millet (much better than cassava!) couscous (texture and consistency of PlayDoh) and green leaf dipping sauce. I loved sitting on mats inside and outside houses...so informal and relaxing.



Visiting families after the prayer.



New clothes and jewelry (sunglasses for the boys) for eveyone for the end of Ramadan celebration...all the kids were looking quite grown up, and loving it.



Great friends and travel companions Brittany and Jackie, outside our $2.50/night sleeping huts in Rhumsicki. When it was time to go to bed, Brit and I unfurled our blanket (chilly up there in the mountains!) only to realize it was a worn living room rug! Seems the owners removed it from their own home's floor right after we asked if they had beds available...
We had a lovely morning drinking tea, reading, trying to dry laundry, and walking around the gorgeous canyons.



C'est la vie au Cameroon. Check out that moto being carried across. The norm for travel during rainy season up here, but in four months kids will be playing soccer in these river beds while their mothers dig holes next to them to try and find water to wash clothes.

 

Motorcycle rides through the countryside are absolutely one of my favorite pasttimes here, and the tours I went on during this trip were absolutely breathtaking! If you are wearing a helmet and can convince the driver to slow down a bit, the bumps are not too bad and its calming and invigorating at the same time. I think my love of long, picturesque motorcycle rides might have to go onto my online dating profile when I get home! ...but as several volunteers have reminded me, I can always get my own! Much of what I love is being the passenger and taking it all in, but maybe that's only because I've never driven one : )

 

Eid weekend adventures

Friday, August 17th

I'm doing like the French and taking my August leave from post - many Cameroonians do the same, one of the many indications of the French colonial influence.  Earlier this week I was at the Peace Corps-organized National Girls Forum, where I got to present (in French!) on my income generating activity project with AIDS patients. Well-recevied! It was held at the other beach town, Kribi, which I had never been to and really liked. We got to go down to the water both days after sessions, and since each Peace Corps volunteer had brought two Cameroonian counterparts, and people had come from all over the country, there were lots of people who had never seen or touched the ocean before. So it was like that day at the beach with my summer campers, but with adults, many of them Muslim women in full traditional garb, all acting totally like little kids - running and screaming and laughing and splashing...really one of the most adorable and lovely things I've ever seen! It had nothing to do with the actual conference, but to me it was one of the best results of the whole thing, people getting to explore their country, experience the ocean, witness its power and immensity (when we pointed to the horizon and told them that America was on the other side of the water, eyes got very wide)...most don't have the means or much reason to travel, so Peace Corps paying for them to come across the country was a huge opportunity.

I took a bus back to the capital on Wednesday, did my laundry at the Peace Corps office, and got on a 13-hr overnight train that night to come up to the predominantly Muslim north part of the country, where everyone is getting ready to celebrate the end of Ramadan...we won't know when the actual holiday is until the new moon is either visible or not yet visible in the sky tonight.

Nearly everyone on the train, and then on the 9-hour bus ride to the Far North region that immediately followed, was fasting, meaning no one had any need for bathroom or food breaks...I was dying! Luckily the call to prayer came along after 5 hours and the bus stopped so everyone could get out and spread their mats to wash and pray. The other non-Muslims and I all ran to go buy meat from a man grilling some goat on the side of the road, and these few men of course hassled me about not wanting to eat liver, and tried to talk me up (all in good fun, but its incredible how they absolutely can't NOT say something when faced with a young white woman, their instinct is to make a to-do about it). Then when I walked back past all the Muslims rolling up their mats, one of them braved a "Bon appetit", but that's it! In general it's almost strange being up here and not getting "La blanche!" yelled out at you...I realize that my mind and body are just constantly braced for that as I walk by people in my part of the country. Here, people don't seem to feel the need to draw attention to the fact that you are different and a clear outsider...its both refreshing and disorienting!

All through the night as the train was making stops at various villages, those kids I remember from the last trip up here were out walking along the tracks calling out "Oranges!" "Peanuts!" "Cassava!"...its rather haunting since they seem so young to be out in the dark middle of night like that. The two Muslim men sharing our four-person sleeper car shared their dinner with us to break the fast for that day - so generous and touching! One of the things I'm most excited about this weekend is seeing everyone in their new outfits - its tradiational to get a fancy new ensemble made for this holiday, and they are sure to be stunning and colorful.

Tuesday, August 21st

It’s been an adventurous last few days on my trip up to north Cameroon, which is like an entirely different country, much more like West Africa – Muslim, mellow, more traditional, far from the loud, hot ‘n bothered dirty south. Ironically, the men up here are 10 times easier to interact with, and act with a good bit more respect and civility than those around me, even though as a woman I’m not allowed to sit in the front row of the bus, men’s multiple wives can hardly leave their compounds, and women are not allowed in the mosques to pray. We celebrated the end of Ramadan on Sunday in a tiny village on the border of Nigeria, the farthest-north post of any volunteer, and the communal morning prayer, seeing everyone in their colorful new clothes, and visiting houses and sitting on mats outside was awesome…

It’s rainy season up here too, and much greener and prettier than my last trip – I’ve had a few long moto rides that are just absurdly picturesque and make my head swirl that I’m really here seeing this. But the flooding has been out of control, and I’ve not emerged unscathed. Yesterday on our way back into this regional capital the whole road was flooded from a night downpour, and our motorcycles had to ford dozens of puddles the size of small ponds…all I could think of was the Oregon Trail computer game from way back when! Well, eventually my "wagon" tipped – we got in too deep and fell right over - I toppled off the seat butt first into 6 inches of muddy water, scrambling to keep my purse and backpack from getting submerged. We still had hours of rugged travel on totally gutted roads to go - me in a mud-covered and soaking wet dress - which included our bus getting a flat tire. Instead of seeking a spare, they took everyone from the right side and had them sit in the laps/at the feet of us on the left, to take weight off the bad wheel…when we still could hardly move, the driver started driving with the left wheels off the side of the road, which was so washed out it was 6 inches lower than the chunks of tar making up the main road. So our vehicle was tipped WAY over to further relieve the bad side, and we just barely eeked into the city like that…par for the course of Cameroonian travel!

On Saturday morning we went on a hike outside the city, and had to wade across several small rivers to reach the mountain base. Hundreds of Cameroonians were on the banks washing clothes and dishes, quite a scene. One weird flustered moment turned to disaster when my camera fell out of my bag and into the murky river as I stepped down into it – I freaked and pretty much plunged in, getting everything else on me totally soaked. I ran downstream, the bottom was like quicksand and I could hardly move, to try and catch it if it got swept away…when I turned around, 20 kids and several men had jumped in to try and find it too, and they and my volunteer buddies were all frantically combing the sand under the muddy water. Someone eventually scooped it up, in the sock I now use as a case,…when I went to give them a dollar for their help, children from all directions came running to profit from the payout. Very bizarre, stressful, absurd moment. I am kicking myself for my sheer idiocy in letting the camera fall in…and neither one hour in the oven nor 3 days in a bag of rice have revived it. So much for all the awesome pics I wanted to take up here...but I'll borrow some from friends.

My electronics and my body seem to be struggling to make it these last months. Cameroon ages things at at least 3 times the normal rate! Having a great time though, and headed out again in an hour to a few more rural villages. Keep your fingers crossed I come back in one piece, safe from Boko Haram, Schistosomiasis, food poisoning and the like.

Love to you all~

Summertime adventure weekends break up rainy weeks playing cards and baking banana bread

The beautiful NW region of Cameroon, where we gathered for a birthday/going away party for fellow volunteers. This is Cynthia, who just got transferred to Peace Corps Cameroon after the Mali program got shut down. The same day I met her, she happened to mention an American woman living in this area who just  finished her doctorate on breastfeeding practices, including by HIV positive women. This is a hugely fascinating (for me) and complex, tricky cultural topic that I am SUPER interested in right now, as I am finding a massive lack of knowledge and proper counseling
 in this area at my hospital. We dropped by her house, she happened to be there, and over iced tea I got to hear all about her work, plus got her materials and final papers, and her contact. Cool!



Loading up cakes and side dishes for the bumpy motorcycle ride across town to the roast site



The pig roast set up...thank goodness for volunteers who know what they are doing. They killed, cleaned and slow-cooked the pig for 14 hours...yum.

Last month I escaped to Limbe (the beach) for 48 hours for another goodbye party, which was amazing. These are the times I LOVE how undeveloped Cameroon is - we had a whole gorgeous tropical black sand beach to ourselves, simply because there are so few tourists here (despite its beauty, we don't scratch our heads as to why), and even wealthy Cameroonians hardly have the culture of enjoying the ocean. We boogy-boarded in amazing waves under the
pouring rain, grilled steak shishkabobs, made a bonfire, slept in shoddy tents...really great group of some of my favorite volunteers, so it was the perfect pick-me-up.

Clowning around in the surf...feeling r e l a x e d, we all needed this a lot

Swing dance lessons with our cameroonian friend, who had never been to the beach

Rice and corn chop (beans and de-skinned boiled corn kernels, SO good!) food joint in the beach town of Limbe

I've just finished a marathon hosting run - total of 8 volunteers over two weeks (and expecting three more tomorrow), consisting most significantly of the married couple who will be moving to Nkongsamba in August - they are from Portland OR. I had one for one week and the other the next (volunteers do a site visit part way through training)- we opened their bank accounts (a painfully slow, inefficient process), met everyone, and made some awesome food including bomb cheeseburgers for July 4th, and delicious tofupeanut/ginger sauce over rice...with the fresh tofu I bought off a woman I trained - that was my secret motive all along, score : )

Mexican night! I miss a lot of specialty foods (sushi!) and specific products (Tostitos!), but don't think I'm not eating well!

There's my oven (three metal tomato paste cans sit on the bottom to raise up the cake pan), and the banana bread that I have been making for lots of Cameroonian friends and colleagues - big hit!! Made with Cameroonian honey and their super sweet bananas (I live in full-on banana country), it's a winner.

I've been teaching summer English classes to a motivated group of high schoolers - here they are reading a dialogue about a job interview.

We don't have any books or a real curriculum, so I am making up my own lesson plans and materials, and I wrote my own exam...I am hardly qualified, and feel pretty wobbly as an ESL teacher, but they really want it so I give it a shot.

One of my scholarship girls - it's been great to have quality time with each of them this summer, I think they've enjoyed it too - cards and popcorn, juice and music...days are chilly and rainy right now, so good ways to pass the time together.
 Sh was talking to me a lot about the father of her twin girls, with whom she has quite a complicated relationship. He is quite controlling of her and rather disrespectful - not trusting of her, not very supportive of her desire to go back to school...its hard to hear about and give advice around, but at least I can listen. He gives her a good amount of financial support, and therefore there is a power-dynamic that gives him the upper hand. He refused to meet me when I showed
interest, which I think is telling.

Another one of my girls, Viviane, got a summer internship at the local
radio station, which just opened in our town, and has actually wiped out our radio's ability to pick up other channels, a quirk I hope they will remedy - I miss BBC!

More health camp sessions with local kids - separating activities into risky and not risky for transmitting HIV. I have to remind people that thinking you can get HIV by being near someone who has it is like a woman being scared to be around men because she thinks she will get pregnant that way...they realize that's silly.

Teaching health and fun songs (head, shoulders, knees and toes!) to summer-school students at a church-run primary school. They are going to be big and strong!

This is how we wash our hands!

Here is my friend Brittney and I coming back from the welcome dinner at the (new) country director's house last Monday. I printed (with a carved wooden block and melted candle wax) and dyed that fabric (during the training shown in an earlier post), and just got the dress back from the tailor.

We had our "close of service" conference this week, where we went over loads of logistics for the last phase of service and the process of getting out of here and (gulp) moving on. We've become so well-integrated into Cameroonian culture that several bribe attempts were made when actual finish dates were being assigned - this last round, someone actually auctioned off their earlier date for $100. The week was complete with an awesome nostalgic and silly slideshow, the glee of eating two-year expired Oreos that the US Embassy "allowed" us to buy from their store (our government is now exploiting our desperation!), and a rambunctuous night watching the US women's soccer team take Olympic gold. Great to see the crew I came in with, and appreciate how much tougher, more confident and ragged-looking we've
all become!