Jess does da ‘Roon

My mom came and visited a few schools, most of which were on holiday. She took pictures of some of the run-down classrooms [Disclaimer: allow me to generalize. There are a few exceptions in terms of school conditions here and a some students aren’t as needy as others… but in villages outside of Buea, it’s much worse than what I’ve even had the chance to see]. She visited one orphanage and we taught them crafts. Unfortunately she didn’t get to see students in the schools, with ripped uniforms who try to twist their clothes to keep from revealing their bodies. She didn’t get to see students crammed on benches to the extent that they have to layer their shoulders like sardines to keep from pushing each other off. She didn’t get to see them using and sharing exercise books to write on with broken pens. She didn’t hear about the students who have their things stolen from their bags when they leave them inside to go out and cut the grass on campus with a machete (as students in secondary school have to do at least once a month). What she did capture were the dirt floor classrooms with hard wooden benches, schools without lights, students without books. She took these pictures to share her experience with people back in NC. After showing the presentation to the teachers, it caught on like wildfire in her school. Eventually all of the students, parents in the PTA, and school administration had seen pictures of Cameroonian schools.

The students brought anything and everything they could, some even dreaming up ways to get bigger things like book bags, text books, and old desks to Cameroon. They put their supplies that they weren’t using, piles of things from Target and Wal-Mart, or supplies from home in donation boxes. I received these boxes in the middle of April and nearly cried at the motivation of these kids. That spirit of a global community is truly touching. There were Ziploc bags with students’ names written in shaky handwriting. There were supplies, like pom pom balls and googly eyes, that students thought Cameroonians might like the chance to try. I laughed at one purple feathery pen with a glittery star on a spring, remembering how many wild pens I had in middle school. Students here have never had a pen that wasn’t a clear plastic Bic in blue or black ink. I joked that now the students we supported would be the envy of all the school with their crayons, high-quality pencils, comfortable pens, and colorful erasers.

I’ve been trying to do some research on Akwaya region. In the northwest part of my province/region, Akwaya is an area the size of Fako division in terms of land. It borders the North West and Nigeria. But it lacks infrastructure and for the most part, receives no help. During the rainy season, it’s nearly inaccessible without trekking. There are hardly any roads and even motorbikes can’t travel between some of the places. (Article about Akwaya)

Another volunteer’s counterpart has some interest and experience in Akwaya and I looked to him for guidance in where to go and how to get these supplies there. He took me to a meeting of the Association of Akwaya Students at the University of Buea. This is a truly amazing thing. It reminded me of stories about animals on the brink of extinction, and then you hear about a small community of them in Wisconsin or something. These students had not only made it through Akwaya, they’d been able to go to university. Granted, many of them were sons and daughters of elites. Out of 16 of them present, 5 were girls. We had a discussion with them about the realities of the region. They brought out early marriage and lack of education for girls being a big issue. And that the schools were understaffed and overpopulated – if the residents could GET to the secondary school. Many villages were located miles from a secondary school, too far even for a student to walk.

After meeting with the association, I felt really overwhelmed. I wasn’t sure that giving the students school supplies was really going to help very much. What about all these girls who couldn’t afford to go to school? And then even if they did, what kind of education would they be getting if the conditions were unfavorable? (In a over-packed classroom, where the teacher doesn’t really have time to care if the students are learning, girls are lost in the background while boys are more bold and girls encouraged to be demure and quiet)

Felix, the counterpart I’m working with, is a machine of new ideas. I’ve met quite a few people here who have insanely innovative ideas for development. Finding someone with the skills to dream these ideas and then put them into action is really rare. Last night we were discussing how he wants to put 50% of his budget for the next 2 years into Akwaya. Currently, families in the U.S. have been sponsoring students for about $200 a year to pay for school fees, books, exercise books, shoes, bags. He’s becoming pretty serious about building his own school with dormitories. It would save his organization from paying for school fees, textbooks, etc. for an education that wouldn’t be as high quality as what he could provide. In this way, he could also bring students from remote regions and house them in the dormitory. He would be able to pay teachers a decent salary that would keep them in his school, recruiting teachers from the Akwaya region. If you’d like to learn more about his NGO or follow his school project as it develops, check out www.peoplefundingpeople.org (great pictures)

I’m interested in what the best method for developing this region is. I hate the term “development” since it becomes so nebulous and debated. But this is a clear example of a small island of people who are stuck. While having plenty of natural resources, they have no roads to transport them out. They have difficulty receiving education. Many practices such as female circumcision, breast ironing, and bush meat harvesting (including chimpanzees, drills, and gorillas) continues since other options aren’t always entering the region. Health centers are poor and remote. So who’s responsibility is it to start working here? The government? And if the government fails? Then who? Should the people themselves be building roads? Foreigners? Cameroonian NGOs?

I’ll be going to the region in June to distribute the supplies and to do visits throughout the region to see the projects that the elites are proposing for Felix’s organization to work with. He wants the projects to come from the communities themselves. I’m confronted with how I feel about Peace Corps’ involvement in communities and what the best approach really is. The ambassador asked me what I felt like was the best strategy to helping the situation in Cameroon. All I could think of was a response that I’ve heard from others, “Education.” “But,” I added, “it’s so long term and I don’t see people being motivated, compensated, trained, or in a position to start the process.” I get so excited to meet youths who can draw, in schools that don’t teach or really encourage that. To meet girls who are bold and tell me funny stories, in a culture that beats them into quiet submissiveness until they can beat their own children. To meet youths who want to travel just because the world seems big and interesting, not because they’ve been jaded enough to believe Cameroon isn’t going to offer anything for them. To meet women who speak openly about their rights and desires. I hope. I just hope.

Since I came here I’ve heard about Cameroonian men cheat; and specifically in this case most people like to say “African men”… because they don’t like putting that only on Cameroon? I’ve heard a few men admit that they’ve cheated. I’m fascinated by this dynamic and how women deal with it. I’ve been doing an HIV training for the past 4 days with the staff of a Local Government Training School. We talk about sugar daddies and I look at the audience of mostly men in suits and about 5 women (2 of them pregnant). Moving on…
Gossip time…
Recently I talked with one of my friends here who is married to a prominent man. She’d talked before about catching him cheating through his text messages but after throwing herself into such a tizzy to put her in the hospital with poor health, she didn’t say anything else to him about it. As we sat in her kitchen, she relayed a story about confirming that he’d been seeing this other woman for over 2 years and she found herself at a party with him and this woman. Her husband left her to go chasing this other woman all over the party. After creating a bit of drama, she ended up going to bed before he came home. When he climbed into bed and tried to talk to her, she coldly told him to discuss it in the morning. When he persisted, she got out of bed to stand so he could see her and said, “Look at me. I’m beautiful. I have men chasing me everyday and yet I respect you.” I laughed and laughed as she aggressively related the rant she went into. The next day he hit her and she hit him back. He threatened to divorce her and she said she had wanted to have it done for a long time. She’s staying with him for the children.

I’m interested in this since I think that a lot of “big men” throughout Cameroon cheat. Not all of their wives know about it. But many probably do. Not all of them are bold enough to confront them, and perhaps aren’t as self-assured as my friend. Does it affect their health? I had a professor at UNC who researched on illness brought on by life not meeting women’s expectations, namely in Mexico, often with men who treated them badly. My friend suffered from “typhoid” soon after that… not that typhoid isn’t a common situation here, but could this situation have factored in? What makes my friend so sure that she’s beautiful while so many other women may not have that same assurance? [Although I’d like to commend Cameroon on its current lack of body issues. I believe people are beautiful pretty much regardless, but women here have great bodies. They often have healthy shapes and don’t obsess over their size] And for God’s sake, why can’t this country get more organizations to help women get out of unhealthy situations!? If my friend’s husband beat her all the time, cheated on her regularly in the open, looked away while his friends sexually assaulted her, and refused to divorce her, she would have little recourse. Gross.

On a happier note, but still on Cameroonians’ reactions, one of the drivers at my NGO has a wife who is pregnant for this first time with his baby. They’ve been trying to get pregnant for awhile. A previous volunteer sent baby clothes through the mail. The driver has been checking at the post office to no avail for weeks now. Today they came (technically they came awhile back but the post office is terrible at alerting us of the arrival of packages. Sometimes ants or mice find them first. The packages may come and sit in the “bags” they come in for awhile [“Santa? Is that you?”], then not be registered, then the registration slip not be put into our box… oh what a wahalla). I’m not sure he’s ever gotten a package before. Remember in “A Christmas Story” when he waits for his decoder ring to come? We went and he nearly skipped into the post office. A few days earlier, I’d asked him to help me get SEVEN (!!!) packages full of supplies for orphans donated by my mom’s school to my house. He patiently waited while I went through the long procedure of getting the packages and then loaded 5 of them onto his head to help me carry them. I didn’t realize that I was sort of smearing it in his face with my abundance of boxes while he waited for his own. So his 2 packages full of shiny new baby things were like Christmas all over again, and it made me grin to think of his wife opening all the little clothes. They hadn’t bought anything yet since their family’s lower income. They live in this adorable small wood plank house near a creek just outside of town.
Updates on taxi drivers since I know that’s what you really want to know about Cameroon. The other morning I climbed into a taxi at 8am and as we were going up the hill, he was looking at me in the passenger seat. So I looked back at him, and he raises his eyebrows and licks his lips. Now, that is really not normal for Cameroon. Men don’t put efforts into their pickup attempts, I’m sad to report. Mexicans work so hard on their whistles and preening their facial expressions. It was 8am and I was not feeling particularly patient so I snort-laugh and look away. He made the “eh-eh” surprise sound and fell into silence for a beat. Quickly he asked about my rings (I wear a few silver bands) and if I was going to give him one. Still 8am and I’m still not patient. I brush him off and as we’re getting close to my stop, he asks me how my neighborhood is. He didn’t pick me up in my neighborhood so this was his way of saying, “I know you.” Apparently we have a relationship and I should’ve been more receptive to his …overtures. Oh drivers, I salute your boldness.

Yesterday I went to a delightful lunch with the ambassador (“The American ambassador?” asks my coworkers). I have trouble balancing her easy going nature with her high status. I have no real clear picture of the status ambassadors ACTUALLY have since Cameroonians put them quite high (they rush out and line up to greet her when she arrives, sometimes in hoards of people) and Americans have no respect for authority. This is the same woman that the last time I met her, I said “Your job sounds like a lot of fun!” … clearly I’m not naturally professional. I’ve learned a bit though and tried to be on my best behavior. Besides spilling my drink a bit, which must be done if I’m in a formal setting, I did OK.

I tagged along with her and her entourage to see the US Navy perform. Apparently the Navy has this “Africa Partnership Station” that tries to share culture and skills between American military and African military (I’m murdering that explanation – the website’s much clearer). It’s a ship that docks all along the coast of Africa. They did a brief partnership with the University of Buea in the music department. The band on board performed a concert after working with the music students. I was along just to see what was going on but I’d forgotten that the Navy’s got some decently high standards and these guys could PLAY. Not only does it provide a positive example of military presence but it also shares American culture with Cameroonians, I was only sad there were not more women involved. I miss live music so much that I had tears in my eyes as they did renditions of Chuck Berry, Duke Ellington, Bob Marley (Cameroonians would’ve held them in that auditorium until they played some Bob), The Clash, Alicia Keys, etc. and just for a dash of flavor, “Just Shake Your Rump” (surely that’s not the title of this gorgeously 80s rap song?). The lead singer was from NC and taught everyone to scream out “Yeehaw” when excited… which is adorable… although I’m not a real yee-hawer myself. They invited Cameroonians to come play with them and everyone was really into it. The musicians were amazing, and gave their all. I was thrilled to hear American music live, hear skilled musicians, and see the sharing between the 2 cultures.

Since I’ve gotten some very worried responses about the water situation, I should say that the water is returning as the rains come. The mountain’s been sharply clear after the rainstorms that have been coming through. It’s a beautiful thing. Mmmm sweet flushing of the toilet! Bathing isn’t really so much of an issue. Who really cares about that?

Because I wouldn’t be true to myself if I didn’t include it, I’d like to make a remark about Seattle. I have no idea what’s in the water over there, but Seattle-ites are all up in my business. Everywhere I turn, usually in relation to Peace Corps, there are (somewhat cool) people surrounding me from Seattle. I thought UNC was decently into social justice… but I’ve met 2 people from Chapel Hill. And a gazillion from Seattle, many of which are constantly informing me of their fantastic homeland. If I have to hear one more time about PCC or some other “hip” store or restaurant, I will poison some Northwesterner with Nescafe… we all know they love that instant coffee. What’s worse is that I’m looking into grad school at “U Dub”. Into the heart of the beast. The lesson I’ve learned: I’m not really great at defending NC in its glory against these ferocious Pacific crazies. Am currently boning up on NC history.

I just read an article from the university here that “string pants” (/thongs) are causing hemorrhoids. Gross. The article talks about why girls here are wearing them, that they saw TV shows from America with strippers wearing them. The difference, the article states, is that those strippers wear them only during a show and then take them off. I’m constantly surprised at Cameroonians’ comfortability with subjects Americans would be squeamish discussing (such as hemorrhoids, douching, and yeast infections – all of which are discussed on buses) while Cameroonians are much more secretive about displays of affection and talking about sex.