PST Weeks One and Two

These are the mud huts on the way to my house in Pitoa...

I am sitting here writing this blog entry on my laptop in my new bedroom. My family lives in a compound of many building and I have a whole one to myself. It is about 20ft by 10ft and made of concrete and has a tin roof. I have two small window both of which have bars on them and netting to keep the bugs to a minimum. I have a double sized bed that is covered with a mosquito net and is rather comfy. I have a water filter, a tiny table, a chair, and a “desk”, a trunk, a bike, and one shelf. All in all – it is good. While I am typing I can here a parade of village children playing local instruments and singing – literally like something straight out of a movie. I am surround by mud huts with thatched roofs – no Courtney I am not kidding. Yes, I have a cell phone but to make it work for phone calls (not text messages which work more places – like under my desk in my room!) I have to leave my family’s compound and go stand next to the tree that is between the two mud hut compounds. It is fairly entertaining. I live on the outskirts of Pitoa – a city whose population I do not know because when I ask my host brother Daniel he simple replies “Pitoa a grand ville”. I suppose they don’t feel the need to do a census here in Pitoa. I doubt anyone knows the exact population. I would guess about 5,000 – but I hear it is more like 15,000 but I would have never guessed so. Problem is all the people live in tiny crammed houses so it is hard to tell. There are two paved roads. I live near one. Other than that – its dirt roads all the way. There is not a restaurant in the town and the Peace Corps has arranged for a local women who is known to be a good cook to make our lunch each day and we pay her 700 CFA (pronounced say-fa) to do this. That is about $1.50.

So some Cameroonian things I have tried thus far include: goat, Kola nuts (a nut/seed that grows here that is bitter and is a natural amphetamine), roasted peanuts, unroasted peanuts, tomatoes, tiny bananas, noodle/rice combo, papaya, guava, pineapple, beef, chicken, fish (no idea what kind), tomato sauce, there spicy picanta sauce which makes Tabasco seem like ketchup, cous cous (which is nothing like our cous cous and basically like really really thick grits or maybe like super sticky oatmeal minus the oats part) and many many more dishes I have no idea how to describe because I literally have no idea what was in them. While I haven’t loved everything thus far, none of it has been awful. I don’t ask (partly because my French is still poor and partly because I don’t know if I want to know) what I am eating most of the time.

Bug bites cover my legs from the mid calf down. Same thing happened in Asia – why do bugs like that part of my body? I also have one new one on my waste line that is rather annoying and two on my stomach. Silly bugs. I don’t know what type of bite they are but they burn. Knock on the biggest piece of wood I can find…. I haven’t gotten sick yet. I haven’t done anything too stupid yet – like eat raw fruit or chug a bottle of tap water – but I haven’t been unadventurous. I brushed my teeth twice with tap water and have eaten tomatoes after I washed them and soaked them for 10 minutes in bleach water and I eat tons of bananas and oranges and peanuts (which they call ground nuts or arachide in French). Also, I only boiled my water before I filtered it for two of the times – it is too much work for my host family to boil all that water and then I have to wait for it to cool…. so I just drink filtered water. I have been told that since my water comes from a pump and not a well that this is okay. Although I must admit I haven’t actually seen this pump.

Oh, my name apparently is no longer Aubrey. It is “Nassara” or occasionally “le blanc”. Nassara means foreigner or white person in the local language – Fulfulde and of course “le blanc” means white in French. Literally I think I get pointed at and called that about 1000 times a day. It doesn’t bother me though, the children who do it are adorable and the other people are just happy to see me and they are being friendly when they say it. It is not a demeaning word or anything. Also, today (4 October 2008) I walked past a group of Cameroonian children with my new bike, bike helmet, and motto helmet. These children were playing some type of stick ball and appeared very interested in my new items. They screamed “NASSARA” at the top of their lungs and waved. About 15 minutes later I passed them again, this time sans stuff, and they screamed BONJOUR NASSARA (now this is at about 4pm so it is time to say Bonsoir not Bonjour at this point in the day) and one of the oldest kids (circa 10 years old) ran towards me with his hand out. I shook his hand and said Bonsoir. All the other children (about 8 of them) bust out laughing hysterically. Then, in turn, each one as they get brave run up to me and shake my hand. It was adorable.

So far I have gotten 5 shots and I have another to come in a few Wednesdays. I have yellow fever, typhoid (PC won’t pay to give us the oral vaccine so I had to have another shot and that shot sucks a lot), rabies #1 and #2 (there are 3 total), and meningitis. All I have left is rabies #3. I had many of them before hand – hepatitis A and B and tetanus and such. The rabies vaccines made me slighty dizzy – boo to that – and typhoid makes your arm very sore – but so be it.

We got to watch some very upbeat videos from the PC about volunteer who got AIDS and then we got a talk about how we shouldn’t have unprotected sex or get pregnant – really? Thanks PC! Haha. The training thus far has been informative I suppose – I have an awesome med kit with everything from Band-Aids to a syringe to malaria pills to a blood smear kit in it. I am basically set.

In Yaounde I bought a giant Johnny Walker Red bottle full of roasted peanuts – hey now that is recycling if I ever heard of it. In Cameroon – like most developing countries – recycling is scarce so I am impressed by any show if it I see. Oh, and apparently all the children want your empty Tangi (the local brand of water) bottles so I have started saving them. As we drove through the villages to get to Pitoa the children would run up to our bus asking for them. Who knew?

So far I have found Toblerone, Bounty, Snickers, Mars, and Perrier here (and of course coke, sprite, and fanta). All of this is only in the biggest of cities I haven’t had Snickers or Mars yet but the Bounty was delicious and the Toblerone was also. The Perrier however sucked. I haven’t had Perrier in America in awhile and I wonder if it is awful everywhere or just here. But here, honestly, it tasted disgusting. I don’t know what was wrong with it. But, I had it about 10 days ago so I know it didn’t make me sick!

From Yaounde we took a night train up to a city in the mountains that I cannot pronouce (N’Gaoundere – and those e’s have French accent marks) which is where the train ends. That train ride took 16 hours. Then we got on a 5.5 hour bus ride from N’Gaourndere to Pitoa. Pitoa is in the Northern province of Cameroon about 15km north of Garoua which is the 3rd largest city and may be on some maps you find. Garoua has internet and a market that people assure me is large but would make your average 711 look great. I have no idea when I will find internet so I am just typing this now and I will carry it around with me in the hopes I get to a cyber café tomorrow.

Oh, in case y’all couldn’t guess – it is hot here. It is about 100 degrees most days. I hear that in March and April your thermometers black out at 140 so hey – something to look forward to. Right now it is still a little humid and by then it will be super dry so we shall see how bad this 140 is. I am not really looking forward to it. But, I hear that by that point I am somewhat acclimated to the temperature and is doesn’t bother me like it sounds like it would. Already I am sweating less, but that is not to say that I am not sweating all day everyday.

Also, when it rains, it RAINS. Jesus. Out of no where comes there clouds – then the sky turns colors and the clouds rush up on the town and then seriously the skies open up and torrential rain follows. It is amazing to watch. Also, rain makes it cooler outside so much to my host family’s amusement - I leave my door open in the rain. Basically they think this makes me am alien and they come by continually and ask me if I want help closing my door. I saw no, I like the breeze (and I say this in French) and they give me an odd look and walk away.

I have braved doing my laundry only once yet but I have helped my friend Anna do hers twice. The problem is after I finally figure out how to communicate to my family that I want to do my laundry, I do my laundry, I hang it outside to dry – I have to let it sit outside in the sun for 3 days (taking it in at night and when it rains) because if it doesn’t sit outside in the sun 3 days then it will be infested with “mango flys” which are worms that will burrow into my skin when I wear the clothes – lovely thought right? Never have I ever appreciated a washer and dryer so much and it is only the start of week 2 in country.

My homestay family is awesome. They are really nice. My dad is a retired police officer. I have one light and one outlet in my room and electricity fairly regularly. I barely speak to my host mom and dad but my host brothers Leopold and Daniel are great – Daniel especially. They sit and help me speak in French every night and are very helpful. Daniel gave me a Lonely Planet for Central Africa – it might be from 1994 but it still has lots of useful information I think. I live on the outskirts of town about a 20 minute walk to the Peace Corps training center every morning but it isn’t so bad.

My friends host mother had a baby the day we arrived. It was alive for one week before it was allowed to be named in a naming ceremony. I know the baby’s name but have sense forgot – something cute but foreign. They try to make me hold it when I go over and I have once but it makes me rather nervous. It is adorable though and the mother and her female relative who is 15 and basically in charge of the household while the mother is still recovering parade it around proudly.

We were told in training that women in Cameroon – at least in this part of the North – weren’t suppose to go to bars alone. If you did, you were looked at as a prostitute. Well two other girls and myself finally braved the bar scene in town today with a male colleague and there were other women in the bar so that was good. We shall see how that whole things pans out. In training we are only allowed one large, or two small, beers a day. That was the first I had in Pitoa so I don’t foresee that being a problem. But, beers are tasty when it is hot and it was nice to sit with locals, speaking English with my friends drinking a cold drink. I have since braved the bar many more times and we found a bar in town with a back area so that we aren’t stared at constantly while we drink like we were the first time. They often run out of cold beers though so that sucks. Luke warm beer – especially Cameroonian beer – isn’t worth it.

Bucket showers – I have gotten more use to them. I am taking my in the pit latrine like I was instructed to do and that is interesting but it is so hot that throwing a cold bucket (which is really a bowl) of water over my head isn’t so bad. I don’t wash my hair often because it seems useless since 20 minutes after I get out of the shower I am soaked in sweat already. Haha. At least in the South (of America) when you go inside there is Air Conditioning – not here!

We met the US Ambassador to Cameroon – she seemed nice and very complementary of PCVs. They encouraged all of us to take the foreign service exam – which they offer at the Embassy in Yaounde so perhaps I will consider doing that. It was a big media to do because she met us up here in the North at our training site and not at the headquarters in Yaounde which is normal. It was lots of photos and journalists and such.

Well Monday (the 6th of October) starts week three of PST. 8 weeks to go! I am very anxious to get through this and move into my permanent community – not because I don’t love my host family because they are great but because I am anxious to be doing things on my own and feel useful here in Cameroon and not just be here struggling with French and learning about the culture – I am ready to speak French and know about the culture – guess I am just being impatient. But, it has been a hell of an adjustment and things are so different and I think if I could walk into a grocery store I might kiss it because I really want fresh juice and salad that I know won’t potentially make me very ill. It is all just new and overwhelming but also exciting and I am sure once the adjustment takes place I won’t crave all those things I cannot have all the time.

Pitoa is known for there giant market. Last weekend I got to experience this. I bought a pagne of fabric that is crazy printed and I am scoping out tailors to have a shirt and skirt made. Send me measurements if you want something but be aware that it will be in noisy African style fabric and prints and that it won’t be plain – they don’t do plain here. Feel free to wait for pictures of what I end up with and decide then. I also got some fruits, some strange squash looking thing, a bucket to soak my fruits/veggies in, the bleach to soak them in, and I think that might be it. All in all though I spent about 6 dollars but had a blast be dragged around the market by a fast paced local women who is Anna’s host sister. I know we got the “blanc/ nassara” price for many things but I watched and we didn’t pay much for then Anna’s host sister did. Her host sister was tough though – if we looked at something or God forbid touched one of the fabrics – basically we were suppose to buy it. Mom, you would be in trouble here. Haha. You learn quickly though and they learned that nassaras are just strange and do things like that.

Got to talk to Courtney and my grandma recently and that was great. Talked to mom only briefly. To talk to Courtney I had to stand by the tree though and the sun set while this happened and my host brother Daniel sat and watched me while I talked. Got the same text message from my grandmother about 20 times total – but I got it. That made me laugh. Everyone was just impressed that my grandmother sends texts though – most of them cannot get there parents to so congrats on being tech savvy there family! To talk to my grandma I had to stand by yet another tree and be watched by a group of 20 Cameroonian children and a herd of goats (Chev in French). If only the phone calls were video conferences my family would crack up watching me just TRY to talk to to them – searching about for signal – moving around, holding up the phone, kneeling down, roaming from tree to tree, being followed by a pack of children and goats…. Picture that!

Note about the cell phone – yes I have one. The number is on the blog. However, text, don’t bother trying to call unless I have texted you and told you to because I do not get enough signal in Pitoa 99% of the time to call. Testing works much better. There is a tree near my house that gets decent signal. Also the main road isn’t so bad. So, it is a work in progress this whole developing country cell phone thing. We all just have to be patient. So, if I don’t text you back right away or you cannot get a hold of me I am sorry and I know it is frustrating but I promise to text you back as soon as I can and hopefully my permanent city will get better reception….

Wish me luck – Love and miss you all!