End of PST and Moving to Bibemi!

Anna, me and Annie with our Rabies Shots


I rode my bike into a ditch full of schisto




Alright haven’t written a blog in a long time so this will be an entry that covers a long period of time! So, I believe I left off telling you all about the “final” language exam which yes, of course, Cara and I went last for. Well that was on a Saturday and after that beautiful exam I headed into Garoua with Cara and got a bit of internet but it was pretty pathetic internet that day so I didn’t stay on long. Sunday, Cara, Brad, Brianna and I climbed this mountain. Now, I am not quite sure how to describe this excursion best to you but it was something we had be aspiring to do since week one and so we did it. We biked to the base and then basically left our bikes locked together under a large, dead, tree and began climbing. I was not smart enough to wear pants (I was wearing capris) so immediately my legs began getting dirty and cut. Always wear pants when you want to hike a mountain. For some reason, I am assuming something agriculture related, “they” had burned the side of the mountain we were climbing so I immediately became covered in soot. It was a steep climb too. But, as we began making our way up the mountain we would periodically turn around and see an awesome view of Africa. I uploaded one of those pictures on Thanksgiving. It was fabulous. I think Cara and I stopped a bit from the top and Brad and Brianna went a bit further but once you get really close to the top it is a climb that would require more equipment than legs so we had to turn back. But, we got really close and it was super beautiful from the top! So, after the bike ride I got home and took my bucket bath. My family didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me and why I was covered in black and why I thought going for a 4 hour bike ride from 6-10 in the morning was a good idea but they didn’t do much other than give me even stranger looks. After I was clean, I started to feel really tired (I mean I had just climbed a mountain) so I took a short nap before getting up and heading to the market. I got to talk to Emily and mom that day! Woot! Well done folks! Keep the calls coming! But, in the afternoon I came down with a strange fever. Not sure what that was about. I was watching a movie at a friends house and just getting sicker by the hour. I hadn’t been hungry really all day so I hadn’t eaten and went home and told my family I was really tired and didn’t want dinner and went to bed. My temperature was only about 101.5 so nothing too bad and I slept for like 12 hours. Got up and my fever was down so I went to school. Well, my fever didn’t stay down. When I arrived at school after that 15 minute walk my fever was back and I was exhausted and pissed off and sick. I arrive only to learn that there are 5 of us who didn’t make our language level. I had tested at intermediate mid, not the intermediate high I needed. Yippy. So, there were 4 of us who were in that boat and one who had tested intermediate low. Because of this, the 4 of us had to have more than 20 hours of language (23.75 to be exact) between that day and the next “the real final” exam. Apparently you required 20 hours of language to move up a level and without 20 hours it was impossible to move up. The poor guy who got intermediate low needed 35+ hours and was going to have to wait in Garoua for a few extra days to get that. So, yes, that is right. Week 10 of training I had 21.15 hours of language and the following Monday I had another 1.5 hours and than I took my test again. How awful does 21.15 hours of language in one week sound? It sucks. Well, back to the Monday morning I was sick. So, I arrive, learn that I didn’t make my level yet and that I need 21.15 hours of language that week, get a new schedule that has my hours marked in it. At this point I realize I need to just go home. I am feeling pretty bad. So, I head home and sleep for about 7 hours. When I wake up this time, fever is gone and doesn’t come back. Still not sure what that was about but it wasn’t particularly fun.
So that was a great week. Language in that amount is never fun. But, perhaps it was necessary. I got a big surprise Tuesday morning when one of the girls whose host mother is a tailor that we all go to brought me what I thought was going to be my blanket but turned out to be a skirt. Long story. Okay so a while ago, the girl brought in a patch work pagne sample and said that her host mother would make these for anyone who wanted to buy them. They were really cute and I wanted to make one into a blanket. I thought this was clear and I went a bought the pagne for the back of the blanket in the measurements she gave me and gave it to her. Well, I got a double layered skirt. Now, it won’t be hard to make this into a blanket, but it was hilarious. Mom really enjoyed this story of how I wanted a blanket, but got a skirt. Sometimes communication breaks down even when you are using all the correct words and think you got your message across. Anyways, Wednesday, I was sitting in a session about the United Nations Development Program and there work in the North Province of Cameroon when my eye starts killing me. One more than the other but both are super angry. I head to the bathroom and they are really red. So, I ask around, find a contact case and take them out my contacts that I had been wearing. That doesn’t help. So, I put the contacts back in and since it is near the end of the day just wait and go immediately home and put on my glasses and flush out my eyes with the eye wash stuff PC gives us. Well that doesn’t help. They are infected. I have pink eye. So, I call mom and ask her if you have to go to the doctor for pink eye, if it will just go away, and if I need to go to the doctor sooner rather than later… she tells me I need to go to a doctor. Well, the next morning after I manage to get my eyes open, I text message the PC doctor and they tell me to go to the hospital. Did I mention this was thanksgiving day. That morning I had 5 hours of language but I only sat through about 3 hours of it before going to the hospital. I got driven to the hospital in Garoua and then the driver and I went in and he talked to the receptionist for me and I got given a number and told to go sit and wait. Well the next time the doctor emerged they ignored the number system and since I was white I went next. Not awkward at all. So, I went in and (keep in mind this is all in French and I at this point only speak “intermediate mid” French) the doctor asked me what was wrong and I said my eye hurts. He looked at my eyes and started writing on the PC form I had given him. I said “pink eye?” (which I do know the French work for thank you very much) and he said “yes”. Then he asked if I was allergic to any medications and I informed him that yes, penicillin. Then he handed me a prescription and said goodbye. It took about 3 minutes total. We didn’t go over how to use this medication. I then gave the prescription to the driver who dropped me off at the PC house and went to get my medications for me. I then washed my hands super well and started making thanksgiving foods with the other volunteers who had made there French levels and weren’t being forced into 21.15 hours of language in a week. We prepared thanksgiving diner at the PC office in Garoua and had invited the trainers to be our guests. They had thrown us a Ramadan party and so we were reciprocating by throwing them a thanksgiving party. We prepared cookies (my committee) that were no bake (we had no oven for any of this food but only a fire pit and a stove top), stuffing (which was made from scratch and I helped stale the bread for the night before), chickens (which we killed and prepared), garlic mashed potatoes, fried okra, pineapple and watermelon, guacamole with bean beignets, cooked squash, stuffed tomatoes. It was a very tasty meal if I can say so. Not awesome, but given the circumstances, pretty amazing. The trainers all tried the food and while they were a bit hesitant at first, they said later that they did like it.

The next week, the final week of training, started off with me getting to give my IEP (cross cultural presentation) on street food in our training city of Pitoa. Now, despite the fact that I spent week 10 with a few minor illnesses, I have been really healthy the whole time and I eat a lot of street food. So this was entertaining enough and easy enough for me to talk about food for 15 minutes straight in French. I had written it out and had to corrected ahead of time so it would be grammatically correct but of course I deviated from the paper a bit and I am sure screwed up my French grammar a bit in the process. But, it was a success and I got something like a 95 on it. All I needed was a passing grade. Done. Then, I got 7 packages in the mail. Before that I had gotten the post card mom sent before I left and a card from Courtney that had come a few days before. But, that’s right I got 7 large puffy envelopes all at once. Like I told people before I left, try to send me things in big puffy envelopes NOT boxes because they are much easier and I don’t have to pay to receive them. But, it was great and I shared food with my friends and shared my magazines with my friends and I loved getting the packages. Keep them coming. Still haven’t opened the one from my grandma with my Christmas present in it. But, it was hilarious watching me carry these packages home. I didn’t attract all sorts of attention or anything! Okay, so the next day I took my language test again. I believe Cara and I went last again - this time me after her. That same day we had our final evaluations of us at trainees and again Cara and I went last (again me the very last and her right before me). They had first listed us as going alphabetically but it quickly changed to Cara and Aubrey going last – they couldn’t break with tradition. My language test I think had been going for 4 minutes of the 30 when the guy listening to me wrote IH and a check mark next to my name. We all had the feeling this was going to be a joke and that since we had suffered through 23.75 hours of language we would all move up our level and we were right. Needless to say, I made my intermediate high level. Well done me. Then during my last assessment I had to fight down laughter because I heard things like “you’re a winner” and “you’re stubborn” all of which were funny because you could tell what they were trying to say was you don’t give up and you have done a good job but the translations were hilarious.

Wednesday was a pointless and hilarious day. Lots of protocol. In the afternoon, we got taken into Garoua and brought to the bank. Now the bank PC had wired all our money too was hilarious and not describable. There were no computers in this bank and they wrote everything by hand, counted the money by hand and the whole process moved very very slowly. Once I got handed my fist full of cash I had to decide what to do with it (we are talking about 1400 bucks in bills no larger than 20s – seriously a fist full). I decided I would open an account a slightly more modern bank (as in one with AC, people in suits, computers, and ATMs) that was down the road. Two other volunteers joined me in this adventure. We ran to the bank with our money hidden on us and sat down to open our accounts. Again, this is in French. The people at the bank spoke some English but it was easier if they stuck with French because you didn’t have to guess what they were trying to say and feel frustrated that it was English you weren’t understanding. I filled out all my paperwork which including listing my parents full names, my profession, my cell phone number, my post office box address, someone in country who knew me, and my favorite part was having to draw a map of my town with my house on it. Now, I need to elaborate a bit to explain this. So, the guy hands me a piece of blank computer paper and after a few seconds of trying to understand what he wants me to do I realize he wants me to draw a map of Bibemi and put my house on it. Since there are no street addresses in this country they have you hand draw a map of the city you live in and put that in your file. So, after having spent about 3 days in Bibemi my map had the following things (man I wish I could put a picture of this map on my blog for your guys): the river (aka mayo in Fufulde and French here), two roads, the Catholic Mission, two bars, the little outdoor daily market, a forest, and my house. Yea, it was beautiful. Good luck finding my house with that map, I doubt Sherlock Holmes could find it with that thing. But, it did make for a great phone call home to mom. After opening this account successfully and depositing my money (my ATM card won’t be ready for about 2 months) we headed back to the bank where everyone else still was and waited for about 30 more minutes. Then, we went to the PC office in Garoua and under the moonlight signed a number of very important papers like power of attorneys and swearing in oaths, no big deal. We had to report at 6am the next day for swearing in to help set up chairs.

When I got home that night after explaining to my family why I was 45 minutes past my curfew I ate dinner and then took my bucket bath with a kerosene lamp because there is no light in my pit latrine and the sun had long since set and the sun wouldn’t be up when I left at 5:45 in the morning so I might as well take one then. Then, I packed up my room as best I could, layed out my newly picked up swearing in dress that best resembled a muumuu (spelling?) and could have fit 2 of me in it – another language and cultural breakdown in communication had occurred with a tailor – and got into bed for about 4 hours. Woke up at 5am and went to put some chairs in place for the big ceremony. Came home and got dressed and went and got all sworn in as a PCV. It was magical. The ambassador arrived in her 10 hummer entourage and the CD and her spoke to us in English while the rest of the people spoke in French. It was magical and super hot and we were limited to 3 “family” members to the ceremony. Afterwards, we all walked to this local restaurant and had another fete. This fete was decorated like Christmas (complete with a tree) and had a live local band including but not limited to a very drunk Santa Claus like man. I got to drink fullere juice and citron juice and eat good food and talk with my host family a bit. But, at some point during the fete I got sick, again. Jesus this had been a rough week for me sick wise. My family went home and I sat there feeling sick. Went home, moved out, took a taxi to Garoua and met my friends. Pretended like I wasn’t sick and just kept the day going. We checked into the hotel and went to the pool and then to dinner. I couldn’t eat food without getting sick but I went alone and hung out with all my friends. The first restaurant we tried happened to be where the Country Director (CD) and all the staff where eating so we went with plan B. Me and another friend who was sick called it an early night but we got lots of hilarious stories from the others. Also, I got about 30 mosquito bites. Apparently this hotel is where all the mosquitoes hang out because wow, I got eaten alive. The next morning we all got together at a central location in Garoua and waited for our respective cars to leave for our new homes. I was going to be traveling with my post mate Mike and Phil who was placed about 15 kilometers from me. We loaded all our stuff into a van and then ourselves and took the 90 minute trek out to our respective houses. Phil, then Mike, then I got dropped off. Sarah met me at the house and I got the keys and a brief introduction and stuff and then I was left in Bibemi with my things and my French. Lovely. Moving in was awesome and still a work in progress to be honest. I have “moved in” but I am still making the house a home if you will. Hopefully in the next few weeks I will finish. Hard to get all that cleaning and organizing and homemaking done. Nesting if you will. I love it, but it is a long process. Mike and I have cooked most dinners together since arriving at post, not only is cooking for two easier but it is more economical and right now I have the only fridge so it is convenient. We have gotten progressively better and now have a new favorite meal – it is called Spinach delight and is basically our take on this recipe found in the Chadian cookbook. If you haven’t attempted it, I recommend it.

The local children are highly amused by my existence. They stand outside my poor excuse for a fence and watch me and laugh at me and whatnot. Everything I do is funny to them. Also, they dig through my trash (one’s mans trash here is literally another man’s treasure), ask for random things I have outside (like my PC bike or my washcloths), etc. It is hard to be annoyed because it is fairly cute but it does get old after a week. I got my locks changed (PC policy) and got a tree cut down in front of my house that was a security hazard (as in it was about to fall on my house) and now I have to get the fence issue resolved. Again, that will be easier once I get my French up to par but I don’t think I have much of a choice – I need a new fence.

Ahh, learned something important. For all your volunteers, if you are going to be selling bil bil (millet wine for you non-locals) you need to go around the day before and give kola nuts to everyone who you want to come buy your bil bil – otherwise no one will come. Sarah learned this the hard way and luckily I got to learn from this mistake. Giving out kola nuts the day before means successful day of bil bil the next day.

Monday I got to experience Bibemi’s “veggie market” (which is an expanded version of their daily market) with Mike and we bought a ton of food for about 4 dollars. It was just getting started when we arrived so we took a short bil bil break and made some new friends in town. But, it was this market that led us to the successful dinner cooking of the “spinach delight” which we made with the fullery we purchased. Honestly, we have made it twice now and it is awesome. I could eat it daily.

My first day of “work” was Tuesday and that involved me showing up at the health center in Bibemi and writing down the weights of the babies that were brought in. It was adorable and made me feel like I was at least doing something useful in town. Afterwards I went to lunch at the chef of the health centers house and his wife is going to help me learn to cook local food – cous cous (which is not what you Americans think of when you think cous cous) is super hard to made. Man you need some muscle to stir that stuff! But, she makes a wicked awesome hulla halla sauce with cous cous. Then, Wednesday I went en brousse (out into the surrounding villages) with the health center and learned to take blood pressure. It was just me and the chef and I took the pregnant women’s weights and blood pressures and gave them malaria pills and then the chef did the rest of the exam. Blood pressure isn’t that hard to measure once you get use to it. Also, I got to ride a motto through a river for the first time! I was also forced to call out the women’s names (which are all local names) and this was to the great amusement of all the local women – but apparently after two days of this I am getting better. Wish me luck – some of these names are seriously impossible. Well tomorrow I must head into Garoua and go to the bank because I need money to pay my electric bill – wish me luck finding the things I need for my new house! Keep the calls coming – the text messages only get to my some times so if I don’t reply it is because I didn’t receive the message not because I don’t love you! But, calls seems to work so keep them coming! Happy holidays everyone!!!