Reasons to Love the World

BBC Travel posted an article, 50 Reasons to #LoveTheWorld, saying that the news can be pretty depressing, making us want to stay home. They asked people to “share one experience from the last year that truly inspired them – something that, in no uncertain terms, reminded them why they love the world. Madly.”

Coming off a not so great week as a Peace Corps volunteer, I decided to do the same. Days here can be frustrating, but I have moments almost daily where I stop and am reminded of the beauty of this country and the world.

So here’s why I love the world —

Because when I let go of the work frustration I feel and just sit under the stars with my neighbors to escape the heat inside, I feel at home.

Because when I reached the summit of Mount Cameroon, the highest peak in Western and Central Africa, I felt so tiny compared to the vast volcano, but so powerful for having conquered its steep slopes.

At the summit of Mount Cameroon!

Because when that elusive dry season thunderstorm rolls in to provide a short break from the stifling heat, the whole town breathes a collective sigh of relief.

Because as I sat in my apartment on the 19th anniversary of one of the worst days, wondering how I should feel or what I should be doing, my neighbor poked her head in to give me the first mango of mango season and I realized I should just feel what I feel. In that moment, it was pure happiness as I tore off the skin and let the juice roll down my chin.

Because as I floated with my dad and sister in the clear water of the Mediterranean after more than a year apart, I remembered how lucky I am to have the best family in the world.

Because when my favorite Besongabang mommy, who’s deaf, and I have a conversation – me speaking Pidgin so she can read my lips and her speaking Kenyung that I don’t understand, it always ends in fits of laughter that remind me that humans can connect, anywhere, anyhow.

Because all arguments in Cameroon end in on est ensemble or “we are together” without any grudge being held. And that’s beautiful.

Because when I walk through the field to reach the primary school in Besongabang to teach water and sanitation classes, I’m met with chants of “Auntie Cary!!!” coming out of the classrooms, reminding me how unique my life is in this moment.

Water testing during water and sanitation classes with the primary school

Because when my sister and 3 friends came to visit, all in the last year, my Cameroonian, Ecuadorian and American worlds all collided in a magical way.

Because when I float in the Atlantic waves off the black sand coast of Limbe and stare up at majestic Mount Cameroon rising out of the tropical flora in the distance, I remember that I am fortunate to be here.

What inspired you to love the world in the last year?

Thanksgiving!

One of the hardest parts of living abroad for me is missing holidays. Knowing my family is all getting together without me makes me want to be home more than any of the other days I spend on the other side of the world. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays and it’s hard not to be nostalgic for family road trips to Iowa or Pennsylvania, my grandma’s apple pie, crisp weather and sweaters. I’m happy to say that this year despite not having any of that, I had a wonderful Thanksgiving in Cameroon.

The Mamfe cluster (the six nearest Peace Corps volunteers) and I prepared a Thanksgiving feast for our friends and work partners. I made stuffing (from scratch!), honey glazed carrots and pumpkin bars. We substituted chicken for turkey and had green bean casserole, mashed potatoes and gravy. Past experience with preparing food for Cameroonians taught us to also prepare some Jellof Rice, a traditional Cameroonian dish.

Quddus eyeing my pumpkin bars

Two of the other PCVs drafted a program including singing of the national anthems of everyone present, which turned out to include not only the Star Spangled Banner and the Cameroonian national anthem, but also those of Puerto Rico and Malaysia. We also went around the room sharing what we were thankful for, hearing from guests in French, Pidgin and English. My neighbor shared that she is thankful for me teaching her to make American dishes including onion rings and banana pancakes, which according to her she can now prepare better than me (debatable). We ended the program with the mandated prayer and then we all chopped fine chop!

Singing our mostly in tune rendition of the National Anthem

My counterpart, Takor, sharing what he is thankful for

My neighbor and friend, Margaret, enjoying her fine chop…notice she has mostly rice.

It was perhaps my most active Thanksgiving. After finishing dinner, rather than slipping into the typical food coma, we had a big dance party! Boxed wine was flowing and there was no shortage of Nigerian pop music to be played. Our Thanksgiving ended up being a fun blend of American and Cameroonian party traditions.

Dance party!

Being away from home on Thanksgiving is difficult, but it’s also becoming one of my favorite holidays to share with friends from around the world. And now, I go chop Christmas for my own village. See you in 2 days, America!!

Ebola.

The Ebola crisis is like a car wreck that I can’t tear my eyes away from. Every time I have had an internet connection for the past few months, I use it to search the news for updates on Ebola. Recently, my Google news search results for “Ebola” are turning up fewer and fewer articles about the thousands (and predicted possible millions) of cases in Sierra Leone, Liberia and Guinea, and more and more about the panic spreading throughout the US.

I think the reason I can’t get Ebola off my mind is because so many of the photos look like they could have been taken in Cameroon, from the familiar pagne fabric designs covering the bodies of those caught in a photographer’s frame to the colorful health murals and posters warning of malaria and HIV/AIDS. Descriptions of transport conditions sound like the reporter is writing from a bush taxi in Cameroon and peoples’ hesitations of going to the hospital are just like I’m having a chat with my neighbors.

Cameroon has been fortunate to have been spared from the Ebola crisis. We all had a moment of panic when our neighbors in Nigeria began being diagnosed, but thanks to careful isolation and treatment, it was contained and Nigeria was declared Ebola free on October 20. Cameroon shut down its borders during that time to avoid infections here, but that didn’t stop rumors from flying. It was a few weeks of uncertainty, especially as Peace Corps volunteers were removed from Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea.

I have never been to Liberia, Sierra Leone or Guinea, and I don’t like generalizations of assuming Africa is one big country or homogenous culture. Cameroon itself has so much diversity within its own borders that I can’t even begin to imagine what other countries on this continent are like. But I can imagine what it would be like if Ebola came here, and I know it would be disastrous. Between cultural practices and local conditions that would progress the spread of Ebola and poor conditions in healthcare facilities that are entirely under-equipped to handle a disease that requires isolation, the thought of Ebola arriving here is terrifying. If Ebola comes to any new countries, luckily they have lessons learned from Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea to help contain it more quickly. Cameroon is supposedly putting a plan in place and providing training to healthcare professionals. Many Cameroonians I have interacted with know about Ebola and how it’s spread and have a real fear of the disease arriving, something Liberia, Sierra Leone and Guinea couldn’t have until it was too late.

So it’s because of all this that it frustrates me that three cases of Ebola in the United States dominate news coverage, while the thousands in the three West African outbreak countries are left out of the news (unless its to discuss a travel ban). I can only hope that Ebola arriving in the US makes Americans aware of the fact that Ebola is not “their” (people of Sierra Leone, Guinea and Liberia) problem, but the World’s problem. The people and cultures of Sierra Leone, Guinea, and Liberia have been reported on in some very infuriating ways. A great article in Vanity Fair traces the Ebola outbreak back to its origin in a rather culturally sensitive way and is a must read for anyone trying to understand how the outbreak got to this point.

These countries are in dire need of resources to stop the spread of Ebola, not to mention the rebuilding that will be necessary in the future. If you’re worried about the outbreak spreading to the US, your best bet is to stop the outbreak at its source. If you can, donate to Medecins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders), who is on the ground working with limited equipment and personnel to stop the outbreak. It is possible to stop Ebola.

Before you worry next about how Ebola will affect you, educate yourself on the disease and the tragic impact it has had on Sierra Leone, Guinea and Libera and think about how you can make a positive impact in light of an awful situation.

Holiday in Italy

I recently met my dad and sister in Italy and it was such a wonderful break. I didn’t even realize how relaxing those 10 days in Italy really were for me until my flight back to Cameroon when all my guards slowly started to come back up. I got to hug my dad for the first time in 15 months and have pillow talk with my sister as we fell asleep with bellies full of so many foods I have been missing. We swam in the freezing but crystal clear Mediterranean, which caused my dad to laugh louder than I maybe have ever heard him laugh (science tells us that more salt makes us float more easily). We hiked around the Cinque Terre villages working off all the pasta we consumed by climbing millions of stairs. I ate gelato twice a day for many days. My dad re-learned how to drive a manual car while on tiny busy streets in Pisa with mopeds zooming all around us. We went wine tasting and explored several small Tuscan towns. I took hot showers with water pressure (!) and wore clothes that came fresh from the dryer.

It was amazing.

I was worried about how I would feel coming back to Cameroon after such a fabulous vacation. It was hard to say goodbye to my dad and sister and I felt overly anxious on the airplane thinking of all the things that could go wrong with my taxi pickup in Yaounde. I arrived back to my apartment in Mamfe to mice and lizard families that took up residence there while I was gone and I hit my head so hard I probably had a concussion, so I had a day long pity party for myself. But my neighbors greeted me with screams of “CARYYYYYYYYYYYY” (or “KELLYYYYYYYYYYY” from my landlord) and told me they could see on my body how much I enjoyed myself. My 4-year-old best friend took a nap with me in my hammock. My market mama had zucchini, only the second time I’ve seen it in Mamfe. My favorite moto man called me to see if I was back. It’s the little things.

Since my return, work has been moving slow, but I’m trying to remind myself to be patient. I can’t decide if that is getting easier or harder the longer I’m here! My cooperative is in the midst of preparing for our Fairtrade audit as the cocoa buying season is starting. We are continuing with water testing and mapping and are preparing to build prototypes of improved cookstoves as part of the hygiene and sanitation project. I’ve taken up a new pastime of sewing bottlecaps covered in fabric together into potholders (or maybe coasters since metal conduct heat?) I’m still working on that one! My Peace Corps clustermates and I went on a hike and I’ve been trying some new cooking experiments. It took a day, but I’ve fallen pretty easily back into the slow pace of life here. I have a big chunk of time in Mamfe now until December when I leave to go home for the holidays so I’m looking forward to making progress on my various projects and hopefully updating this blog more frequently!

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Recently, I had two of my most fulfilling and two of my most frustrating weeks as a Peace Corps volunteer.

My postmate and I ran a youth life skills summer camp to teach about HIV/AIDS and related skills including communication, decision-making and relationship skills. We used the Peace Corps Life Skills curriculum which is very participative and unlike traditional educational settings in Cameroon. In addition to a week of sessions with the youth, we painted an HIV/AIDS prevention mural and planned a youth talent show. We also trained a team of five facilitators, some of whom began planning this program with us back in February. It was a lot of fun to watch the facilitators come into their own as they moved from lecture style teaching to more interactive facilitating.

Youth participants performing a role play

Mural Painting!

Getting people to show up to things that they’ve committed to can be a big challenge here, so although we had registered 60 youth to participate in the program, I was very nervous that not even a single student would show up the first day. We ended up having 34 youth receive certificates for completing the program and that is a HUGE success! The youth were very dynamic and it was amazing to see their growth is just two weeks. We had a community talent show that the youth put on at the end of the two weeks to present what they had learned. They shared information about HIV/AIDS, presented skits on communication and good decision-making, danced, and performed some amazing lip-synched songs. I think my favorite part was their beautiful arrangement of Michael Jackson’s “Heal the World.” The attendance at the talent show was lower than I had hoped for, but it was a really rainy day and in Cameroon, you don’t go anywhere in the rain…not even to watch your child perform in the talent show (and maybe not even to the talent show if you are a performer).

Besides the typical frustrations of people not showing up on time and spending four hours on printing a few sheets of paper (power cuts and low voltage), we had some challenges that I didn’t expect. First was with the idea of “motivation” or being paid to do something, but not officially being paid. I think this stems from the corruption that permeates deep into society here, but even a volunteer is expecting to receive “motivation.” This is a cultural difference so although we thought we had made it clear that our facilitators would be volunteering their time with the program in exchange for training and a certificate recognizing this, we didn’t realize the true meaning of “volunteer” here. It was disheartening to realize this and to think about the larger impacts it has on development potential in this country. And then I went on to think about if intrinsic motivation works in this country and then I just spun in circles into a deeper hole. Sometimes it’s best not to think too much.

The other challenge we faced happened to be with the local government who had so kindly donated the Town Hall for us to use free of charge for our project. We ended up having a scheduling conflict, which they didn’t notify us of until the night before the talent show after the youth had cleaned and decorated Town Hall for four hours on a Friday afternoon. This was unfortunate for the youth, made for some logistical difficulties and was disappointing for us to feel unsupported by local government.

Overall I was very happy with the way the project went and was impressed with our youth participants. However some of the challenges and their broader implications for development had me questioning if any of the work I do here will actually be effective. Then this morning, our Country Director sent out an email with a link to this article. It had a quote that really put things into perspective for me.

To be successful in life is to learn how to be effective in imperfect environments – your high school, college, workplace, religious institution, community. The imperfections of such environments do not excuse effort but engage it. As a Peace Corps volunteer, you are continuously confronted with unforeseen challenges and institutions that seem resistant to change. Either you give up and use these circumstances as an excuse, or you engage these challenges with revised strategies and continue to reinvent how you do your job.

The last week, I have been using these challenges as an excuse to hole up in my house rather than engage with the challenges facing me and Cameroon’s development. This article has inspired me to devise new strategies and approaches for my projects over the next year rather than shy away from the challenges and resistant institutions here.

Conversations with Oliver

Recently, my landlord and his family moved from an apartment in the back of the building to the brand new dazzling apartment right next to mine. It has changed my daily life a lot, in a great way. I now feel more part of a family. His wife Margaret (in addition to making daily comments about my weight fluctuations since the last time she saw me 5 hours earlier) feeds me anytime I walk by her open kitchen door. The 4-year-old son, Kurdos, has been conditioned by Pavlov’s Law to yell “Cary!” and come running anytime he hears the distinct creak of my door. And Oliver, my landlord, can be entertained chatting with me for hours about random things. Topics of our most recent 2 hour conversation include: potatoes, pineapples, bribes, American vs Cameroonian educational systems, loans, laundry machines, gender roles and his son’s difficult dietary restrictions (this 4 year old has chosen to be a vegetarian in a country where no one is a vegetarian!).

Oliver’s response to everything I say is either “Hm?,” “Hm!” or “hahahahahah.”
When I tell him the cost of one year of a university education in the states – “Hm?”
When I exclaim that I’m not used to washing my clothes by hand and I prefer a machine – “Hm!”
When I say he should try cooking breakfast for his wife some day – “hahahahahah.”

I spend more time sitting on my front porch now, chatting with Margaret as she does her dishes or washes her hair in the front yard. Kurdos passes many hours trying on my helmet and telling me it’s heavy and then taking it off only to put it back on again. He also discovered how the tap on my water filter works, making me realize my apartment isn’t exactly child proof!

Margaret and Kurdos left this morning to go visit family for a couple weeks. I felt like I was being abandoned for a quick second when she told me they would be leaving. It’s funny how quickly we can adapt to new circumstances. Maybe it will be nice to have a couple weeks to myself without Kurdos tearing apart my apartment!

Kurdos likes to just hang out with a toothbrush in his mouth

Guest Post: Are you getting me?

Guest post by my sister, Molly!

Visiting Cameroon was amazing.

But mainly, Carybeth is amazing in Cameroon.

If one of Paraguay’s favorite national pastimes is sitting in silence and drinking tereré, a chilled traditional tea, then one of Cameroon´s favorite pastimes is arguing.

And I’m talking full on, voices raised, arms-a-swinging arguing. It might be a moto that cut you off, a pedestrian crossing in front of you, overcharging on the palm oil, whatever really.

Now you may think that Cameroonians would contain this tradition just within themselves and let visitors remain innocent bystanders…but that, my friends, is not the case. If there is one thing that CB will have mastered by the time she leaves Cameroon it will be sticking up for herself and she is fierce on the field!

Our little baby has never been known for her fighting skills…you might say she peaked at age 5 with her threat of ‘Do you want the claw? (extremely long finger nails) or ‘Do you know who I am?’ (no explanation available) But there is a new boss in town and her name is Cary…or Karen…or Kelly…or sistah…or….are you getting me? The name Cary is a very difficult one for Cameroonians to say.

I definitely heard her yell the following in a transportation related disagreement: ‘You fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me! You are bringing shame to me, making a fool of me, you are getting me?!’ (that´s the extended version of the proverb)

Transportation seemed to be the inspiration for all of our fights as people constantly wanted to charge us extra, make us pay to keep the car less crowded (Cameroonian vehicles do not travel until they are filled to the brim, a tiny car must have 3 across the front, 4 across the back to roll…children do not count as people/there are never any bus schedules because they will not leave the station until every seat is full) and then pick people up along the way, etc.

The awesome thing is that generally all fights end with a hand shake and the saying of ‘We are together.’ The particular proverb incident, which was part of a longer 3 hour ordeal, ended that way and CB said she saw that man last week and he was truly delighted to see her and asked how I was! Cameroonians don’t seem to hold grudges and if they do they never last for longer than 5 minutes.

In Cameroon’s defense most of our issues happened while we were traveling and with people who were seeing us for the first time. They’re not really to blame in a city like Limbe that has 2 foreign run oil rigs right off their coast and a slew of short term volunteers moving through and spending lots of money in the city– it creates expectations that are hard to break.

In CB’s town, Mamfe, people were awesome and generous and excited to show me Cameroon. People dashed us (gifted us) lots of food and juice (hibiscus juice–amazing!) We cooked with her neighbor, visited her football center, attended her women’s group meeting and sang and dance, did a Malaria program in her market (where one woman said, ‘Cary why isn’t your sister speaking English?– Cameroonian Anglophones speak a very different sounding English, ‘Grammar English’ and lots of Pidgin), rode lots of motos and just had a wonderful time snuggling and talking after so much time apart.

We did some traveling where we saw hippos in the wild(!!! this one is a story for the campfire folks…or the bar), saw the largest thatched roof in the world at the palace of a chef, visited a modern art museum of the Cameroonian artist who designed Cameroon’s national football team’s jerseys, ate spaghetti omelets, and spent some awesome time at the beach.

I’m so proud of Carybeth and it was awesome to watch her in her now natural habitat feeling as comfortable as can be negotiating prices with her market lady, talking to a bunch of new people at the market about Malaria, not flinching as her power went out for the 15th time in one day, fighting for that last dime– on principle!, impressing people with her pidgin, and navigating us across the country with ease! I can´t wait til she can tell you all of her stories in person, but don’t start an argument with her…she will definitely win 🙂

Halftime.

I hit the highly anticipated 1 year in Cameroon mark on May 31. It’s crazy to think that I’ve been here for a year already. I’ve noticed a lot of changes in myself and in Cameroon in the past year. I am much quicker to jump to being aggressive and MTN (one of Cameroon’s cell phone providers) now has a month of unlimited texting for $1. But in all seriousness, when I think back to myself a year ago, entering this country on a plane full of 32 other eager Peace Corps trainees who all seemed more sure of their decision to get on that plane than me, I can’t help but laugh. It didn’t take me long to realize that my previously passive and timid demeanor would get me walked all over in this country.

I celebrated my one year anniversary here by picking up one of my very favorite humans at the airport in early June! Seeing my sister’s bright pink pants through the small cracks in the wood panels blocking the renovations at the Douala airport practically made me jump for joy as I ran to the doors to beg the guards for the fiftieth time to let me into the baggage claim area. They’ve cracked down on security because of Boko Haram so despite me telling them that my sister didn’t speak English or French and would be very confused (a little white lie never hurt anyone), I was forced to remain at the threshold of the door. I’ll let Molly tell you all about our adventures in her forthcoming guest blog, but I will say that the 2 weeks having her here were some of my best in Cameroon. A lot of volunteers say it’s stressful to have visitors, constantly making sure they comfortable and happy, but having Molly here was actually so relaxing for me. It was so wonderful to share my life here with her and to catch up on everything we’ve missed the past year. Here’s to never having to go another full year without seeing her face!

A Day in the Life

I’m coming up on my one year anniversary in Peace Corps, a time when many volunteers abandon their blogs because things begin to seem normal and unworthy of a post. I’m going to do my best to keep this going and try to remember that although a goat walking through my yard or termites eating almost the entirety of my bookshelf is normal and expected for me, it probably isn’t for most people reading this. In attempts to remind myself that my normal days may not be all that “normal,” here’s a day in the life.

I woke up on Monday morning at 7:30 to a nice cool breeze coming through my window, about the only time of day Mamfe could be described as “cool.” I wanted to stay cozy in bed with my jersey knit sheet (a very key item I brought with me from home) draped over me, because being able to sleep with any sort of sheet is such a novelty here, but I willed myself out of bed to start my day. I checked my email with my new borrowed internet key, which has really revolutionized my life. Then I made a quick breakfast of over-easy eggs on toast with Laughing Cow Cheese (the only cheese to be found for miles and miles).

By 8:45, I called my favorite moto man, Elvis, to come pick me up to go to Besongabang. Elvis arrived and gave me usual spiel about how I have been “missing” and haven’t called him in many days. As soon as I put on my lovely Peace Corps-issued helmet, we were off on the 10 minute moto ride between Mamfe and Besongabang. I arrived to my friend and colleague, Takor, waiting for me on the side of the road, assuring me he could see me coming from miles away. We searched around for a large piece of wood to tape a printed map of Besongabang to and then headed out into the village to plot wells and latrines. We visited families whose wells we had previously tested for coliform and who Takor lovingly told them the results by pointing to all the spots of coliform on the test plate exclaiming “dis na shit, dis na shit, dis na shit.” We strolled half the length of the village, greeting people with my very limited knowledge of Kenyang, or the easier “morning-o” all the while adding to our map. Takor bought me a pineapple from a man who cut it right off the bush for me and I was gifted two large papayas and oranges by two other families. By noon, it was too hot to be walking in the sun, so Takor and I sat down to enjoy the oranges. In Cameroon, people peel the oranges (which are actually green), but leave the thick white coating and then just suck all the juice out. I’m still working on mastering this skill, so I could only eat two oranges in the time Takor devoured six! The oranges are pretty acidic so with a burnt tongue, I hopped on a motorcycle (more commonly called a bike or okada in Anglophone Cameroon) back to Mamfe.

I met up with two other Peace Corps volunteers for lunch when I got back to Mamfe. We had grilled fish and bobolo, a food made of manioc that has been boiled, pounded and then boiled again inside banana leaves. It’s definitely an acquired taste and I went from hating it to craving it about 3 months after I arrived. Anyway, we eat grilled fish here with our right hand and I still haven’t mastered this art either. Let’s just say my postmate Lauren’s cat always has a very happy belly after eating my fish scraps.

After eating, Lauren and I went to her house to plan out a schedule for the youth summer camp we just received a grant for! We will be teaching HIV/AIDS and related life skills to high school students at a week long camp in July, followed by a community talent showcase. We are starting our recruiting efforts this week before the school year finishes.

At this point in the day, I’m pretty tired and it’s too hot to think, so I went home to lay in front of my fan…only for the power to go out shortly after. I spent the afternoon reading “Behind the Beautiful Forevers” by Katherine Boo about a slum in India – I would recommend it if you’re looking for a new book. The upside to the power being out is that I read more! At 5:00 there was some loud thunder so I decided to go for a quick run before the rain came. On my way, I passed some annoying high school students who were on their way home from school and enjoyed mocking me while I ran, but 2 of them kindly asked if they could run with me. I told them they were welcome, but didn’t think they would make it past the end of the street in their flip flops. To my surprise they finished my run with me and then asked where they should meet me the next day to make sport again!

I got home as the storm clouds were rolling in and got to talk to my dad to wish him a happy 60th birthday! Then I cooked dinner by candlelight – cabbage which has become my go-to food. I was disappointed that I couldn’t watch a couple episodes of Veep (a hilarious show which you should all watch) since I had to conserve my computer battery for working the next day, but I made some progress in my book before falling asleep in my mosquito net sanctuary at 8:30 to the sound of rain on my tin roof.

So there you have it, a day in the life. No two days here are the same, and at least once a week I spend an entire afternoon in front of the fan (given there are lights), but this was my Monday this week!

April Top 10

April flew by faster than any other month that I remember here. As my neighbor recently said, “the days are running.” It was a busy month so I will just summarize in a top 10 list.

1. I spent a few days in Yaounde at the beginning of the month for an Agribusiness Steering Committee meeting. It was a lovely few days catching up with some of my best friends from training, eating pizza and felafel, Hilton happy hour-ing and relaxing in our brand new transit house for volunteers.

The 5 lovely minutes we spent in the Chinese Gardens before we got in trouble for taking pictures

2. My dear Austrian friend, Julia, who lived in Manta at the same time as me came to visit with her boyfriend, Gerald. We spent 10 wonderful days together and although we hadn’t seen each other in 2 years it felt as if no time had passed. I showed them around Mamfe and introduced them to some of my friends and neighbors here. They brought a bunch of soccer uniforms and shoes that we gave to a youth soccer team here and we even got to see them play a match in their snazzy new getup. Julia and Gerald did a short hike of Mount Cameroon and then continued on to Limbe to soak up the sun (and some rain) on the beach!

Julia and I with my tailor

3. While in Limbe, we went to the Limbe Wildlife Center, a really well organized zoo full of primates that have been rescued from the illegal bushmeat trade. There is a lookout tower over the cage where the drills (think Rafiki from Lion King) roam with some pretty steep treacherous stairs leading to the top. I looked up just as I had finished climbing said stairs, and I was face to face with a drill who was leaping towards me. I screamed and promptly fell right back down the stairs. The zookeepers at the bottom were pretty entertained by this, saying he learned to escape from the electric fence cage and loves to scare people. Apparently he just wanted my sunglasses. I didn’t find it very funny in the moment as I was watching the bruise on my foot slowly grow, but it is funny in retrospect!

Limbe

4. IT’S MANGO SEASON. I don’t know how I’ve gone 24 years on earth or even 11 months in this country without a mango season, because it’s the best season. It somehow found a way to surpass fall, which is a pretty amazing feat in my book. You can buy 4 mangoes in the market for the equivalent of 20 cents. People are just giving away mangoes straight from the tree (people are just giving away candy?!) . Everywhere you look, school kids are walking down the street sucking on mangoes. Even the monkeys at the zoo in Limbe were enjoying the new addition to their diet. Unfortunately the season only lasts through May so until then, my fridge will surely be stocked with as many mangoes as I can fit.

Mango Season!

5. My new favorite pastime is engaging my neighbor in conversations about my weight. It used to really upset me when she would exclaim “Cary! My God you look like an early pregnant woman!” or tell me that I need to “reduce,” but now I find it wildly entertaining to hear her theories about why I am so fat or how I can lose weight. Most recently she told me I was fat because I drink cold water.

6. My neighbor might have an actual reason to tell me I’m fat by the end of the next month because Julia and Gerald brought me an obscene amount of chocolate from Austria. They gave me 2 shoe boxes full of Milka chocolate bars in every variety you can imagine, Lindt truffles and assorted Easter bunnies and eggs. Yes, this deserves its own number in the top 10 list because when you’ve been eating only Mambo bars for 11 months, real chocolate becomes the highlight of the month.

7. After traveling around for the beginning of April, I was so happy to be back home in Mamfe. Traveling here is exhausting and frustrating and a constant test of my patience (which I frequently fail), so it’s always a relief to arrive back in Mamfe in one piece. It’s also nice return home to neighbors who are excited to see me, to my favorite moto driver who offers me door to door service and to the 4 walls of my lovely little apartment.

Home!

8. I finally got around to planting the herb garden I’ve been thinking about for the past 11 months. I cut up some plastic water bottles and tied them to my balcony. So far I have basil, spearmint cilantro and spinach. I’m hoping to add more soon. I’m also hoping that the intense Mamfe sun doesn’t kill all my plants.

9. Rainy season is starting up again, which means it’s occasionally cool enough to go for a run. I excused myself from all forms of exercise during dry season as I broke a sweat just sitting on my couch in front of the fan and walking from my house to the road produced sweat equivalent to running a marathon. I have been running around 6pm when the sun is starting to go down and the town is out for their evening stroll. I get lots of thumbs up and shouts of “courage” as I run by. I also get some shocked looks from children who don’t know if they should call me “auntie whiteman” or “redman” because my face is the color of an overripe tomato.

10. Last week, my friend Roger, a South African Portuguese architect for the Football for Hope Centre in Besongabang and I, with help from UAC put on a tree planting workshop for 23 children. We talked about the benefits of trees, had the students draw their desired environment on the plans for the centre and its surroundings and then planted about 30 trees! Each child tied a ribbon with his name on the tree he planted. The children were really enthusiastic and seemed excited to have their own tree. I even planted my own palm tree! Their school is right next to the centre so we are hoping they will each continue to return to look after their tree as it grows up!

Some of the kids posing with a newly planted tree