What I've seen and what I've done

It has been such a long time since I last posted, that I really should apologize to all of you who take the time to read the words I write. I tried to make up for lost time by uploading a decent amount of pictures onto Facebook, so now I’ll finally offer some of the stories behind what you might have seen.

Swimming in the Atlantic Ocean.

                Near the end of August I left my well-trimmed farm and dutifully fasting community to go down to Yaoundé for some meetings. Unfortunately leaving Voko at this time meant that I would be missing a big fête in village—the end of Ramadan, but at the same time, being down in the Southern half of the country gave me a chance to spend some time seeing more of the country and visiting other volunteers. After wrapping up in Yaoundé, some friends and I left for Limbe, a beach town in the Southwest region of the country known for its beaches of black volcanic sand. It ended up being a little too cold and rainy to spend much time in the water, but we still took full advantage of being on the coast and gorged ourselves with the delicious seafood in abundance.

One of two crater lakes at the top of Mount Maunenguba,
east of Bangem

                After a couple days on the beach I traveled farther north (both geographically and quite startlingly in terms of elevation) to visit another PCV working with MINFOF in the town of Bangem. Although I was still in the Southwest region, I had already begun noticing how startlingly different—visually and culturally—both the region and the country as a whole seem to be. At times communication could be quite a problem, often repeating the same phrase a few times before finding the correct language... French? English? Pidgin? Definitely not Fulfulde like I’ve become so used to, up North! We spent a few days hiking “en brousse” into the various protected areas surrounding his town and I was able to learn about their issues, along with the work being done, and compare it to life in my village, in the North. Bangem was surprisingly cold and as we hiked up the hills surrounding the town, this “Nordist” became aware of how unprepared I was to tackle anything besides the hot, Northern sun.

Tofu made at the prison.

                On my way back to Yaoundé, I stopped through another PCV’s post to get a small glimpse at the West region. While there I accompanied her to a soy formation at, of all places… a prison! It was interesting to see the interworking of a Cameroonian prison and as always, to work alongside another PCV and make some delicious tofu. I made my way back up to post, thoroughly impressed with the diversity of the country and the validity to the much-heard statement coining Cameroon as “Africa in miniature.”

Corn and sesame growing steadily, soy yellowing for harvest

                Back at post I was ecstatic to see my village friends again, recount my recent adventures, and of course, see how my farm has progressed! The rest of September and all of October were spent partially harvesting soy, but mostly helping out on friends’ farms harvesting peanuts as fast as we could before the rains end and the ground becomes too hard and dry to uprooting the peanuts. Now that school has reopened, I’ve met with the Environmental Club at Voko’s high school a few times, organizing our plans for the year, hoping to create a student-run tree nursery, student garden, and possibly a trip into the National Park (along with conservation-focused activities).

The community convenes to pray together.

In full "Hadja"-wear for the fête

                November began with much excitement as all of Voko came together to celebrate the Muslim holiday of L'Aïd al-Adha, where much praying is done and a lamb sacrificed, just as Abraham had done, to show his devotion to God. The day of the big “fête” was an exciting one as everyone was dressed in their best clothes, making their rounds around village to greet friends and family. The day ended with much of the village—from young children to old village mamas—congregating in front of the Lamido’s (traditional authority, village chief) compound to celebrate with some of their traditional music and dancing. In a small village that is usually asleep by 9pm at the latest, it was exciting to see everyone out and dancing late into the night.

Rainy season decided to finally show its face (well, kind of)

                When I last posted, June was at its close and with good reason, people were worried about the rain. July came and passed, and still no rain. Normally it should start raining lightly around May and planting begins in June, when the rains become steadier, but this year the rains have been both late and sporadic. For those who had planted early, lack of rain was a constant worry for their young crops, and for those who had not yet planted, there was much uncertainty as to whether there would be sufficient rain once they finally got a chance to put some seeds in the ground. The lack of rain becomes a financial risk when people have to replant crops that haven’t grown, or retreat their fields when there was insufficient rain to activate the herbicides and fertilizers already used. Furthermore, there is fear the harvest this year could be very weak, which could lead to famine when planting season comes around next year.

Corn and soy (the epitome of america, n'est pas?)

Freshly weeded soy, all done by yours truly.

                Now that the rain has finally become steadier, so has the farm work. I’ve begun work on what we’re calling an “experimental plot” alongside my work counterpart, the MINADER field tech. in Voko. We’ve planted soy, corn, and millet, and to add the “experimental” element, planted alternating rows of red beans, soy, and Bracharia (a nitrogen-fixing grass) associated with the two cereals. Our farm is right on the side of the road so seeing me work has become a slight tourist attraction; people often stop by to greet us or shout out support (“Du courage!”) while passing by. As can be seen in the photos, there's still a lot of work to be done, in terms of weeding.

Millet and red beans (and lots and lots of rocks).

                As I may have mentioned before, Voko is mainly populated by Muslims, with Christians all being people that have moved to the village from elsewhere in Cameroon. Islam is a pretty prominent aspect of village life in Voko, usually noticed by the various blessings being used (e.g. “Salaam Aleichum” being thrown around 24/7) and the five regular prayer times throughout the day. Now more than ever, the prominence of the religion is seen as July 30th marked the first day of Ramadan, commencing the 30 days of fasting, observed only during daylight hours. I was encouraged by my community to try and fast along with them, and since I had already missed out on breakfast when I was informed that Ramadan had begun, I figured I would just keep on fasting and see how it goes. To my surprise, the fasting has not been at all difficult, and doing so alongside the rest of my community definitely adds an aspect of solidarity. For the last week or so, the regimen in village has been to wake up around 4am, eat breakfast, and in my case, drink lots of water. Around 5am, the first call to prayer is heard, signaling the start of fasting. By 6:30am I like to be out on the farm; the work this week being completely devoted to weeding. Around 11am I’m back at home for a while, usually napping or reading, and then the rest of the day is usually spent hanging out with various people around village. By 4 or 5pm, basically everyone has returned from the farm and the village has become repopulated. Girls are out selling food to break the fast with (beignets, manioc prepared in a variety of ways, beans, and most importantly bouille… kind of like porridge) and everyone is anxiously waiting for the 6:30pm call to prayer that will also end the day’s fasting. Once heard, most of the people grab a quick drink of bouille and head to the mosque. I usually wait around for everyone to get back from the mosque and then we drink a boatload of bouille and munch on beignets before the last and longest prayer is at 7:30pm. So that’s what the rest of the month will probably look like. I’ll try and keep updating with pictures of the farm and such.

Set your John Deere on fire… I just “moved my lawn” with a garden hoe

                I’m not kidding with that title. Throughout the month of May there was enough rain to turn my concession wild, but not enough to start planting. Yet, in anticipation of my future garden (and for fear of not being able to find my house among the tall grass and weeds), I decided to manicure my yard, garden hoe in hand. I groomed about half the concession (WAY easier said than done!) and then turned the work over to some neighborhood kids looking for some work. This will be the second time I “hire” kids to work in my yard—the first time was kind of a hot mess, but turned out to be a pretty funny afternoon… I was working in my yard, turning the soil to make beds for planting, when I notice a group of 5 kids standing at the entrance to my concession, staring at me in a kind of awe that I am capable of “laboring” (general term here for field work). Anyway, since I’m not fond of being gawked at I told the kids that instead of staring, they should go look for their own garden hoes and come help me. After about an hour and a half of work, we were a spectacle for passing neighbors, but did an okay job, and the kids won a round of sodas.

My friend, Djamila, and I, in full traditional pagne during the Voko committee fete.

                Besides keeping busy with yard work, there have also a bunch of different celebrations lately. May 20^th marked Cameroon’s Unification Day, which brought in people from villages all around the division (including people from “my village,” Voko!), as usual, included a whole lot of people marching across Poli’s stadium, and was marked with a general festive feeling around town all day.

June was opened with a large celebration in Voko—the village’s annual development committee meeting. This meeting brought in the representative for Poli’s souspréfé, Poli’s mayor, Voko’s lamido (traditional chief), and a large number of “elites” (business owners, various ministry delegates, people of standing who are from Voko). The reason for celebration (among many) was that the committee would be giving out a gift (snazzy new backpacks) to the top three girls of each primary school (which is totally awesome) and collecting money to work with for the next year.

Between those two “fêtes,” I managed to find time to cross the Faro River to attend the wedding of a friend’s brother in a village called Tchamba. While this village is still in Cameroon, it sits a few kilometers from the Nigerian border, and as I walked through the market and saw nothing but Nigerian Nairas, I started wondering if I should have brought my passport. After taking in the market, I went back to the wedding family’s concession and spent the rest of the afternoon watching all the wedding preparations while getting henna done on my feet and both sides of my hands. It was kind of a tedious process, but totally worth it and when I later showed up to Voko in head to toe pagne and henna, I was received as la femme africaine, la femme du nord, and ironically enough, Hadja.

The wedding ceremony began the day before I got there, with the groom’s family traveling to the bride’s village (Wangai, also across the Faro) to watch her complete her reading of the Koran (and likely some other praying and traditions I missed) and to bring her to the groom’s village to continue the rest of the wedding ceremony. The second day was focused around the evening when the groom’s mother formally sees the bride in front of everyone, and the bride and groom are separately showered with money from their family and friends. The evening is concluded when the bride and groom take their first meal together with everyone (generally the first time men and women come together and often the first time the now husband and wife see each other). It was interesting to witness the whole ceremony and I was flattered to be invited; I definitely look forward to attending more traditional events.

Life in the Tower of Babel (Written May 01, 2011)

                Ever since my arrival to Cameroon, my mind has been a jumble of language; since moving to the Grand North, jumbled with the addition of Fulfulde and now also a decent amount of Voko, which is a very tonal language, lacking the rules and simplicity of Fulfulde, thus making it much more difficult to pick up on. The more time I have been spending in Voko (soon to be a fairly permanent placement), the better my language(s), since I’m immersed nearly 24/7, and I’m pretty pleased with my progress—I can now carry on basic daily conversation that makes me feel like I’m actually contributing and not just a warm body hanging around. I do get told that I don’t speak enough (a shock to all of you, I’m sure), which I find hilarious—I’ll be sitting with a group of people who are chatting, mostly Fulfulde with intermittent Voko, and then they turn to me and ask, “why are you so silent?! Speak!,” to which I usually answer “mi don nana!” (I’m listening) which actually does significantly help me pick up new words and phrases.

                Another high point of my recent stays in Voko have been my increasing popularity with the children, specifically a baby who was so scared of me he couldn’t even look at me without screaming and crying (yes, I have that mystifying power over children here). To try and win over his love, I bought him a piece of candy, and after accepting with careful consideration, this child sticks to me like glue. He’s taking to me so, that he dances around the concession singing “Shara don don, Shara don don! (because he can’t pronounce Nasara = white person in Fulfulde), and although I don’t like being called Nasara and he’s slowly learning my name, this is still totally adorable.

                In terms of work, right now we’re preparing for cultivation which should begin very soon as the rainy season is just beginning. If I haven’t already noted this, the crops that dominate here are corn (not the sweet corn you know), peanuts, millet, cotton, and rice. A few of the GICs I work with will be planting soy, and throughout the villages we will be planting various types of trees (for consumption, shade, and farm use). The women of these GICs are very interested and motivated in learning about all kinds of IGAs and are constantly asking about all kinds of different things that we can do. I’ve done soap-making sessions with a few groups and built an improved cookstove with another group. Some stuff that we might be doing later on include lotion making, products using soy flour, fruit-drying, canning, juice making, and cloth dying. What’s cool is that we’re constantly coming up with generating ideas; possibilities manipulate local resources and ways to preserve food products. A recent idea that I’m really looking forward to researching is the use of bees wax to make various products… updates to come!