First few weeks in Bibemi

Fanta - my cat - outside on the newly covered cushions!


Me and Phil on Christmas


Me in the "Sand Pit" that is the river behind my house during the raining season



Me with a view of Bibemi behind me


The Health Center I work at


Cara, me, and Kauleen at Swearing In

Want to hear something weird, or at least funny to me? Here in Cameroon, people don’t call animals (like cows and pigs) by the correct words in French. Instead, they call them my the words for the meat that these animals produce. For instance, instead of calling cows “vache” which is the correct translation in French, they call them “boeufs” which means beef. The same is true for pigs which are not called “cochon” but rather they are called “porc” aka pork. I find this interesting but not surprising because in the opinion of the people here the only function of these animals is to become meat. I have checked my Fulfulde dictionary (this is the local language) and the word for pig and pork is both “gaduuru – gaduuji” (go ahead and try to think how to pronounce that) and the words for vache and cow I can only find one of in the dictionary. I will try to figure that out and get back to you.

Yesterday I took the blood pressure of about 50 women over the span of 3 hours. I showed up at the health center at 9 (when I the day begins for them) and waited while more and more pregnant women showed up for consultations. They chef had gone to find needles because we were out and we give the pregnant women tetanus shots and didn’t return til close to 11. Since last Monday had been the Fete de Muton (Festival of the Sheep) we had two weeks worth of pregnant women show up in one week and we were starting about 90 minutes later than normal. It was sheer chaos. But, I got really good at taking blood pressure. Also, felt good to do something and feel somewhat useful. Then, I went to the market with the chef of the health centers 13 year old daughter, whose everyone calls Marmee but that isn’t her real name. I was told to come at 15:00 and showed up at exactly that time and then they proceeded to make fun of me for being on time. I was told that, as I already knew, African time is super different. But, I try to set a good example and show up basically on time. But, since I was there early, I was told I had to wash my feet. Yes, she brought me a bowl of water and made me wash my feet on the side of the road where we sat selling beignets waiting for Marmee to be ready to go. The people here think we are always dirty because the dust here sticks to us as we sweat (which they don’t really compared to us) and on our light skin you can see this dust much easier. So, after being sufficiently embarrassed and basically called a silly, dirty white girl (in the nicest way possible) we got to leave and walk to the market. We went hoping to buy Hoola Halla (a type of leaf) but they didn’t have any so we bought Fullery and decided I would learn to make a Fullery sauce instead. It was fun going with a true local to the market – we demanded they include cadeaus (gifts) with all our purchases – which is common here but something nasaaras (white people) often miss out on because we don’t know to ask. Then, when Mike and I bought some Fullery to bring home to chez moi to prepare for ourselves that night they were all very concerned that we didn’t know what we were doing. I assured them that we knew a recipe and went home to prepare it. (Ps we do know a recipe and it is awesome – seriously really tasty!). After eating dinner and watching Die Hard 3 I called Melissa because I had been thinking about her a lot and spent all my phone credit talking to her (well worth it) because I hadn’t heard anything from her since I had been here – which was far to long to go without talking to her! That was great, but not nearly long enough and when I had to hang up because I ran out of credit I felt every one of the 1000s of kilometers between her and I. Sometimes it is hard to be so far away from people, not within easy communication of everyone you know and love back home, etc.

So today I woke up rather homesick. I don’t think this whole Christmas season thing makes it easier to adjust to life in a new country when I sort of just want to be home with my family. But, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that good stuff. Not that I am not happy here, I am, but it isn’t super easy to be away. Sam’s birthday was this week and they threw a big party and all that good stuff – made me really want to be in Germany. But, I am promised pictures. I am sort of just ignoring that it is Christmas. I mean it doesn’t feel like Christmas here – there is no Christmas music in village (there was in the provincial capital of Garoua) and it is still hot as hell during the day with a killer sun. I am refusing to play Christmas music or acknowledge that it is the holidays. I had put a Christmas picture as my computer screensaver but that didn’t last long (now I have settled on a nice winter scene of the Czech Republic). I am going to be dragged to a Christmas party and forced to listen to Christmas music and watch Christmas movies on actual Christmas but we shall see how that goes over with me. There will at least be alcohol and cell phone service so I can talk with people back home. Anyway, woke up homesick, and leave life to kick you when you’re down – my guard (who watches my house and stuff) stopped by at about 8am (which was before I was really wanting people to stop by chez moi) and to make a long story short asked me for 15,000 CFA (only like $30 but a shit ton of money here and more than I honestly have at my house) because his neighbor was sick and needed the money. Now, horrible story and situation right? It was really awkward and I said that I couldn’t loan him the money (not a great precedent to set week 2 in village) and he left. That didn’t help me feel any better for sure. But, children are awesome. I spent the morning at the chef of the health centers house having his wife teach me to make a local sauce. When I got there at 10:15 (15 minutes late from when she told me to be there but early on African time) she was basically preparing millet. Apparently the black part is no good and needs to be removed which involves a long difficult process that I observed. I watched this process sitting in the shade on a chair (I wasn’t allowed to help but I did try) with 3 local little girls congregated around me. I had my first successful “conversation” in Fulfulde and learned that their names were Natalie, Pia, and Sophie (thank goodness these kids had “Christian” names and were easy for me to pronounce). We then played clapping games and made faces at each other and I felt much better. They learned my name too and pronounced it in an adorable accent. After she finished preparing the millet it was about 11 and we started making the sauce. The process of making this sauce took about 30-40 minutes (which isn’t too bad for food here) and then the cous cous (which is nothing like cous cous in America) took another 20ish minutes (about an hour total for those of you who are math challenged). I made a wicked good sauce – I got complemented from Mike and the women who taught me and her sister. I am fairly happy that they don’t think I suck and hopefully now they will have a bit more faith in my cooking abilities. So, after lunch Mike and I got some bill bill (millet wine) and drank with the family we ate with. Then, I came home and hung out and then went for a walk later (still feeling a bit homesick now that I was back in my house and alone with my thoughts) and again, the city itself and the people in it picked me up. I made a new friend – my neighbor named something like Oneray (unlike the children this morning she had a hard to pronounce “local” name). I got greeted as Aubrey by a number of people and a group of children who greeted me as Sarah (the girl I am replacing in Bibemi who was another blonde girl) I greeted them but then told them I wasn’t Sarah, I was Aubrey and then looked at me for a second and then said “Bonsoir (which might mean good evening but people here use once it is past about noon) Aubrey” and proceeded to yell “Aubrey Aubrey Aubrey” down the street after me while I continued to turn and wave. Adorable. Then, I was wearing my hilarious tree/asparagus dress today and I got complemented on it. A group of people stopped me and told me that my dress was “tres jolie” (very pretty). I thanked them and did everything I could not to burst out laughing. If any of you saw me in this dress you would laugh hysterically but I got told here in Bibemi that it was beautiful! Came home and ate a super dinner of left over Fullery sauce I had made with potatoes that the chefs wife (whose name I think is Analise or something like that, but she refers to herself as Mike and I’s mother) gave me to go with my sauce and heated that up on my stove and made a lettuce, onion, banana, papaya salad – super duper I tell you.

Today, Saturday the 20th, has been great thus far. This week has been a little rough in the homesickness department but today was better. Not that I don’t always miss my friends and family, but you know. So I decided yesterday that my goal for today would be to see how to go about getting my cushions for the couch on my porch recovered. But, I did so much more than that. So I got out of bed around 7am and started cleaning. I ate breakfast quickly and while heating up leftovers on the stove became overwhelmed by how dirty the stove was. So, I got bleach, soap, water and a washcloth and this thing that can best be described as an SOS pad made of metal and scrubbed the stove as clean as a stove that old is getting. Victory (for those of you who know me well, yes, I did a personal victory lap). I got covered in black dirt during this process and decided I was just going to keep cleaning. Well, after doing my dishes in my outdoor sink and no running water I was even dirty. But, I really needed toilet paper. That doesn’t sound like it should be hard to find but since only “nasaraas” (aka foreigners) use this product I walked (dirty still) to every boutique in town before final finding one that had TP. On the way home I stopped at one of the roadside tailors (yes there is more than one in Bibemi) and asked him in broken French (I didn’t know all the words for things like cushion) if I brought him 9 “things like pillows” and 2 pagnes if he could cover them for me. He said yes but I needed to bring them soon because it would take awhile. Perfect. Went home and grabbed my 9 super dirty/dusty/pagne torn cushions and my new pagne and headed back. Now, yes at this point I am walking about ½ mile carrying 9 cushions. Cushions aren’t heavy until you carry 9 of them for ½ mile with two pagnes (picture 12 yards of fabric that is brightly colored). Many people gave me funny looks but the children (who are starting to know my name) called out Bonjour “Aubrey” (I put this is quotes because they are saying the closest things to Aubrey that they can pronounce) after me. So I gave these two men my cushions and pagne. They laughed at me and gave me strange looks but after studying them told me that they could be done in 5 hours and that each cushion would cost 250CFA (about 50 cents) to cover. Done. It felt so good to get that taken care of. (Well I got pick them up in about an hour so lets see how successful I really was). Then, I realized I couldn’t bring new cushions home to dirty furniture covered with spider webs, spiders, and various other dirty things. So, giant bucket of bleach, soap water and another washcloth and I got to work. I clean a wooden futon and chair from top to bottom. Also, cleaned off the coffee table and decided to rearrange some furniture in my living room/kitchen. Then, as I was about to sweep my porch off, a local kid asked me if he could do it for me (I give them candy when they do so they like to). I said sure and this kid was really cute and waited outside and asked me and he was like 5 years old so I said yes (plus, at this point I was damn tired). So as the 5 year old swept my yard I swept inside my house and drank a bottle of water. Then, I gave him a cookie and a sucker because he had done a really great job and moved the furniture to sweep around it and stuff. Then, I had been redecorating and put up some new posters and stuff so I had one of Sarah’s old posters hanging out and it was a soccer poster that was clothe and had 3 soccer players on it. So, I asked this little boy if he would like it and he said “yes yes yes” and was so excited. So, I gave it to him. He was so excited and he was going to show it off to his friends. Well I went back inside and was about to take a shower when I heard the little boy yell out and it sounded upset. I opened the door and asked him what the problem was (even though I knew at this point). The boy who brings my water (who is like 8-9) had taken his poster and was hiding from me. The little boy wasn’t crying but he was really disappointed and wasn’t sure what to do. I told him to wait and went inside and brought out my German cow pencil case and gave him 2 cool pen/pencils and told him I was sorry that had happened. I wasn’t sure what to do at this point. I was mad at the boy who took it (whose name is something like Non Kong – which sounds Asian not African to me) but should have known better. I also couldn’t really go down to his house and talk with his mother – this isn’t suburban America. I decided I would talk to him about it when he brought my water next and just tell him that was really not nice of him. It is hard though, Non Kong has nothing and I couldn’t really blame him. I pay him to do lots of things for me (basically as an excuse to give him money) like wash my dishes and clothes and bring my water on his cart. Well, after my shower (which doesn’t take long when you’re using buckets) I was sitting on my couch reading when I heard a commotion outside. Non Kong had come back to my house and thrown the poster over my wall and was hiding from me again because he knew I was angry with him. I went and picked up the poster and put it inside my house. A few minutes later, I heard kids outside again. Now, Non Kong and the little boy were talking about 50 feet from my house. Next thing I know the little boy is at my door and I ask him if he talked to Non Kong and he said yes and that Non Kong told him that he had thrown the poster over the wall (but of course it wasn’t on the ground now so he was confused). I told him yes he did and that I had it in my house. I went inside and got it and gave it back to him. Then, I go back to my bedroom and watch him walk off with it. About 50 feet down the tree lined path outside my house Non Kong comes out from behind a tree and talks to him again and they seem to have made amends (the little boy probably traded Non Kong the other things for the poster back). Then the little boy leaves Non Kong behind and he runs home using the poster (which is made of cloth) as a cape. It was adorable. I have to remember to give Non Kong a present for Christmas or something. Let him know I am not mad at him and that I appreciate him doing the right thing and giving it back. All in all, I got a lot more accomplished today then I could have imagined. Wish me luck getting the cushions back! Now, time to celebrate by making some guacamole, rice, beans and maybe tortilla chips (which Mike and I have made from scratch before!). Mmm, be jealous!


MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!!!!