Life in the village (written Jan 17)

Before I get into what I’ve been up to lately, let me explain a little bit about my post and the area where I have begun working—and I must admit that I’m still learning myself… it’s not so easy without a map in front of me. The Conservation, one of Faro National Park’s main offices, is located about an hour or two west of Poli, in a canton called Voko. A canton is a district, the collective name for a group of villages. Outside of the park, there are several villages I have begun working with—Gormaya, Mayo Djarendi, Paté Manga, Lenguerba and along with some other villages, they are collectively known as Voko. The park itself is divided into several areas, the farthest west being the “park” itself (where the Conservationist’s office is) and the rest, roughly ten, are managed hunting zones which are rented out to hunting guides.

Picture of only the coolest things found, including antelope and hippo skulls.

            I spent this past weekend in Voko, meeting with various GICs so I can learn about their work, farming activities, needs, interests, goals, and anything else they are willing to share so I can learn about their groups. It’s exciting to finally feel like I’m “getting out there” and talking to people and learning about the farming activities in the area. Since there isn’t regular transportation from Voko to Poli (and it’s an uncomfortable 1-2hr ride), it’s easiest for me to stay in Voko for various periods of time. 

While in Voko I tried this fruit, called kosala. It tasted kind of like green tea.

I had a room set up in the Conservation, which I will continue to use as I keep traveling into Voko and it ended up being a pretty great place for me to be. There are always MINFOF eco-guards working and hanging around the office, which provides me with a really great way to learn about the functions of the park and general stuff about the area. I was fortunate enough that my stay coincided with the Conservationist passing through Voko, providing me with a lot of quality time to talk to him on a range of topics. Unfortunately for him, his stay was prolonged by accumulating work, as several arrests were made in the park. The first was a Nigerian man who was caught poaching—a porcupine, coupe de buffoon, and a monkey. The second was a group of men from one of Voko’s villages, caught fishing illegally and mining for gold in one of the hunting zones. I was surprised to hear that these men were mining, but apparently the area is fairly rich in minerals, and although there is some chance in finding something; this chance is not very high and the small amount that may be found doesn’t have very much value, but as one of the men explained—a village chief—the pressure to pay for his children’s’ education has pushed him to take these chances. Hearing this man talked really just motivated me more to learn about the area and the people—their resources and potential. My hope is that I can help them find ways of generating an income that can help improve their lives, while maintaining a balance, and relieving pressure from the park.

Mi somi (Fulfuldé for “I’m tired”) (written Jan 12)

Besides working with my host institution (MINFOF), my job is to seek out other organizations I can work with (this is the reason I visited so many MIN_ offices when I got to post). Project ESA II is the environmental offshoot of SOTECOTON, the French-Cameroonian company that controls anything and everything to do with cotton in this country. Anyway, Project ESA II has an A/F demo plot in this village just over 25km from Poli called WindéPinchoumba. I biked out at 7am, with the hope of reaching the demo plot and finding someone in charge—which I did, in 2 hours. After setting a time to meet next week and taking a short break, at 10am I headed back to Poli, hoping that I had enough in me to make it home in good time, just before the afternoon heat. I didn’t do so bad, 2 hours and 50 minutes—10 of which I spent taking a water break and 30 minutes to walk up the really steep, rocky section. When I reached the hilly section and decided to walk it, I happened to stop right behind a group of women who were walking in my direction; I figured since I was just walking my bike, one of them might as well set it on my saddle while we walk uphill (rather than carry it on her head… I don’t think I’ve mentioned anything about this, but with the exception of babies, who are always tied securely to one’s back with a large cloth, EVERYTHING can be and generally is carried on one’s head… in Lable, it was a regular occurrence to see men walking down the road balancing planks the size of telephone poles on their heads). So I walked uphill with these women, carrying with me a bag of what I later found out to be millet wine, then biked the rest of the way home, promptly rewarded myself with a cold Coke (not as satisfying as ice cream at Morrow) from the bar, and deemed the voyage a success. 

The air, the air, it’s everywhere… (written Jan 09)

These are the mountains just west of my house.

This is the same view, but no mountains, just dust!

In Fulfuldé it’s sollare, in French it’s poussiére, in English it’s dust, but no matter what you call it… it’s everywhere. All those wonderful hills and mountains I kept talking about—gone. At first, looking at the closer hills one could mistake it for fog, but the dust is so thick, that past about 500 meters the landscape disappears completely. It’s not really a bother in the day-to-day, but it does make traveling on already dusty roads that much worse. Since reading Grapes of Wrath I feel like I should probably note that it’s not the dust bowl over hear. A lot of the plants, especially the large Teak leaves, have turned brown from the dust settling, but it’s not like I have to wipe down my furniture and windows, dust my food off before eating, or anything extreme like that.

            It’s a new year and my second month at post, things seem to be moving a little more coherently now, but before I start talking work-stuff, I’d rather track my progress on the home front. In the Grand North, it’s customary to have large walls around one’s house for protection, privacy, to keep the goats out, etc. Although I appreciate my cement wall for all the above reasons, it does at times feel a little self-isolating, especially when the neighborhood kids are lurking on the other side. These kids and I had a funny relationship from the start—they would just stare (likely in shock and awe), sometimes daring to yell out la blanche (French for white person) or nassara (Fulfuldé for stranger or white person) once I’ve passed or entered my house, and I, in response generally greeted them bonjour/bonsoir/ca va? /etc. (or ignored them depending on my mood and their distance). Anyway, their curiosity got the best of them during their vacation, and in the days between Christmas and New Year’s they finally decided to cross through the gate and get a good look at Boo Radley. The thing is, as much as they are loud and rambunctious together, the second their feet hit my porch they become silent and shy, which makes it different to make conversation and attempt to befriend them. One afternoon a bunch of kids are hanging around my porch and as I’m attempting to drag some words out of them I remember that I have crayons and a coloring book left over from gifts I brought for my homestay families. Once I bring these out and start handing out blank pictures and crayons, more and more kids start to trickle into my yard until there are at least 15 kids (ages 2 – 13) hanging out, coloring, and of course, fighting over crayons. All in all it was a good time, and even though the kids are still kind of shy, they frequent the porch to say hi (actually looking to see if I have a new a coloring book or candy) and I stop by and inquire about whatever activity may be keeping them interested that day.

This makes traveling less fun.

            In terms of work, after “establishing my presence”—meeting officials and visiting offices, my next step is to start meeting community groups and farmers and finding out what kind of work can be done in the area. Even though many of the offices seemed to be in an end-of-the-year lull, one community group leader seemed eager to work with me and introduce me to his group. Unfortunately, the same day that we had planned to go see his group’s land, he informed me that there was some trouble amidst—the members of his group are unable to work in their fields because a family of lions (3) have left the parklands and descended into this community group’s field looking for food—a threat to their cattle, their crops, and their lives. When I told a fellow PCV about my “work dilemma,” her response was comically accurate: “well, we’re definitely in Africa”. Unfortunately, the problem has not yet been solved and the group is waiting on a response from the local MINFOF delegation. In the meantime, I have been able to get a start on things, beginning with a trip into the park to visit my supervisor, the park conservationist, to get some contacts and make a work plan. To get to him, I had to endure a 3 hour moto ride on a pretty terrible road alternating between rocks and sand (and at one point a shallow stream), and then cross the Faro River by canoe (and then do this all over again to get back). Even though I came home covered in dust and with an extremely sore butt, the day was hailed a success. With the help, I was able to schedule a meeting with several community group leaders for this Friday (Jan. 14) and will be staying in the MINFOF office outside the park for a few days so I can meet with groups individually, visit their villages and hopefully see the land they work on.

            Wildlife count: I saw some hippopotamuses in the Benoué River upon entering Garoua one morning, while crossing the Faro River I saw some baboons drinking by the riverbank, and as we were leaving the park I saw a whole bunch of coup de bouffon (a kind of antelope). 

Even though the large rivers like the Faro and Benoué are still full of water, animals, and all things good. Almost all of the other streams, brooks, etc. have dried up. The crazy thing is (from what I'm told) is that most of these bodies of water will be flooded during the rainy season, but for now people with no access to wells are digging for water.