December 23, 2007Well it's official, I'm back. I left Cameroon about 3 weeks ago and have spent the time, up till yesterday, traveling around...France, England, Chicago, Denver and finally back home. It's been an uneventful yet fun transition back, a little cold and snowy but, I'm loving it :) I had a great time seeing friends all around the western world, but have started missing the ones back in Cameroon. It's definitely a strange time, feeling not here nor there. But the snow is fun, the American football is exciting, the Christmas lights make me happy and, you'll all be happy to know, the turkey sandwiches are just as I left them.

So, this will be my last blog because, let's face it, my normal non-Peace Corps life just isn't that exciting. Still, thanks for reading and following my activities over the past 27 months, for all your thoughts and prayers and encouragement! Here are a few pictures from the last days in Cameroon and travel around. Merry Christmas! ~ALLY

With my friend Viviane and her daughters, Jonetta and Eleana.

At our "gonging" becoming "R"PCVs

...and the pin.

About to depart from Douala.

What is it about Paris? I mean, it looks just as great, if not better, when it's drizzling... 

Playing tourist. We're actually quite cold and not that excited to be outside the coffee shop.

From the top of the Durham cathedral tower. Such a quaint British town.

With Wes and Charlie.

Tower Bridge, London

And the witchy hair is gone (sorry Stacy)!

Home Sweet Home. Back and freezing in Steamboat.

...oh and just for some more entertainment, check out:  http://youtube.com/watch?v=8BDmQM8Z0pE

25 November 2007

Things that make me happy--or at least entertain me....

Cute pikins.

Herbal sales on public transport.

Dancing in the case.

Matching shirts.

Being an African woman.

Gifts from the states.

Eagles.

Anglophone car-art.

Tributes to the USA.

Creative hats.

Muntant pineapples.

16 November 2007

...With my departure from Cameroon literally within sight, I have spent the last few weeks frantically trying to see people, get projects finished, pack and wrap up normal, everyday activities. It hasn't been easy. Saying goodbye to friends, c0-workers and even those random neighbors who happily greeted me everyday has been very difficult. I feel very lucky to have had this experience which makes saying goodbye so much harder.

I will, thankfully, be replaced in Ndu. A new volunteer will come in December to start her 2 years there. It was fun to have her visit for a few days and it gave me an interesting look back on how I may have been so long ago. While I know I have changed a lot, for the better I hope, it's difficult to look at yourself and see those changes. Still, I'm looking forward to hearing about Amber's time in Ndu and hope she finds it as rewarding (though not without it's challenges) as I did.

A few things that I will miss...

I will miss the kids running up the hill greeting me every afternoon shouting “Allo Allo!” (Which they think is my name), and especially the youngest one who sounds more like “Yai-yo, yai-yo!”

I’ll miss morning coffee in my Spice Girls mug.

I’ll miss Pa’s foufou corn and njama-njama; my landlords car working never; sleeping 8 hours a night; throwing things at chickens; daily walks and talking back to Denise Austin workout videos.

I’ll miss the complete sincerity in my friends’ inquisition about my weekend. I’ll miss how wonderful a bucket bath can be. I will miss walking home from CBTS and stopping to gaze at the billions upon billions of stars that are brighter and more abundant than anywhere else I’ve been on earth.

I will miss sitting on fence posts talking to my friends and making them laugh by telling them the latest tale of embarrassing myself or falling. I will miss feeling integrated enough into a culture so much that it doesn’t shock me anymore. I will miss Anglophone English—until. I will miss the rain.

I will miss feeling sore from washing a bucket of clothes and being referred to as a Cameroonian woman because I wash them myself. I’ll miss riding on the back of George’s motorcycle through (over, around, and sometimes under) rocky bush roads to the village. I’ll miss making old Mamis smile by speaking one of ten phrases in the dialect.

I will miss my wonderful friends, dance parties in the case, movie nights, and drinking palm wine. I will miss the fog, miss the sun, miss the sounds of drums and singing and banter from the traditional kitchen. I will miss not ever matching and wearing the same thing a few days in a row.

I will miss the emotional roller coaster that made up everyday for 26 months. I will miss the pace of life. I’ll miss pineapples and mangoes, sounds instead of words, and oatmeal everyday.

Despite the irritations, trials and frustrations, I will miss it all (well most of it, at least) and cherish it forever.

September 24, 2007

The days seem to inch by yet weeks pass before my eyes. Amazingly June turned to July, July to August, August to September and sometime next week, September will end. This meaning that I will have only 2 months left in Cameroon and even less time in Ndu. With that realization slowly settling in I think of all the things I want to do and wish I’d done, while I try to come to terms with the fact that it probably won’t happen. It’s a tough thing to realize and accept (even as I write this I’m compiling a “to-do” list that inevitably will be not fully accomplished).

However, over the past 2 months I’ve felt fairly “successful” and “productive.” (By the way, the meaning of both words had changed significantly for me since coming here nearly 2 years ago). Our HIV/AIDS sessions in the village have gone well—we’ve been very lucky to team up with a duo of very knowledgeable and helpful staff from Banso Baptist Hospital who, working within the parameters of one of their own projects, are giving free tests at our seminars and will try to organize abstinence clubs at the local schools before, during, and after our seminar. This (as all you “international development” connoisseurs will know) makes our project fairly sustainable…which, after all, is the goal of all this work anyway! So far we’ve tested over 100 people and educated about 100 more. Our final session is in a few weeks at the secondary school where there are about 600 youth—we’re hopeful it will go as well there too!

On a slightly different note, I’ve been, once again, faced some interesting cultural and traditional incidents. My favorite was shared with me by a missionary friend who teaches at the seminary in Ndu. Recently during a “forum” it was presented that because of juju a friend of a friend of a friend’s sister (or something like that) actually gave birth to a cabbage…like the kind you make coleslaw out of…

The new group of trainees (soon to be volunteers…well in 3 months) arrived on Saturday. It is weird to think that only 2 years ago we arrived here seeing as I feel that I’ve learned more in these 2 years than the previous 5 (with that being said I also feel as though I’ve lost significant brain function due to daily use of “special English” and pidgin)…but this is more “worldly knowledge.” Here’s to hoping the next 8 weeks are productive, successful and enjoyable—as much as saying good-bye can be—as I try to wrap up one life and remember what the other one was like!! Pictures...the first ones are the road from Ndu to the village where we have been doing our HIV seminar and one from inside the classroom during one of our sessions. Taking pictures while trying to hold on to the back of a motorcycle is always exciting. And, while in Yaounde a "band" came and play for a few hours for another volunteer's birthday...it was very fun, they even had a cow bell. What more do you need?

September 7, 2007

Lots of time in Yaounde, too much internet access and my camera is working again so...Pictures!!

COS Conference, Soul food and dancing in the case...

Soul food...so much butter. So much garlic. So much cheese.

...dancing to 80s and Stacy's choice of Braveheart Techno mix

We love Peace--in all languages

Matching dresses, Ingrid's birthday dinner (lip staining red wine??), and COS dinner!

24.08.07

A few pictures from a busy work week!

Our first HIV/AIDS seminar and free testing the a village went really well.

Baby weighing is more fun when guest come and soy milk is made!

15.08.07

This blog is from May 1st--but I just found it and realized I never posted it. So…here's an old one! As for current life, it's going well. Lots of rain, cloudy days and running water. I'm busy working on 3 different projects (a 2-year high for work load!) and getting excited about finishing up in about 3 months!!

Below are some random travel pictures. There aren’t really ways to describe the wonder of Cameroonian travel except through pictures and even those don’t usually do it justice!

The car smelled really bad--my bad didn't smell that much better though.

One kid had pink eye, one had orange hair (not so much for style, more from lack of nutrients) and there were a total of 14 of us in ONE car. I think this may be too much stuff... Labour Day 2007…US weekly photo shoot or national holiday??

I avoided it last year but no such luck for Cameroon Labor Day 2007! It started out well, pouring rain at 8 AM. I received one of my favorite greetings thus far:"Morning Miss Ally. You're up?"

"Yes."

"Weh! Thank God."

…Now I wasn't quite sure if "A'int that the truth!" would have translated well, so I just smiled. Our departure was delayed until about 9 wherein we bounced along, 18 in a Land Rover, not comfortable. About 20 minutes into the hour-long ride, the car started puttering, if you will. The engine was revving and it was taking about twice as long to get up hills. Finally smoke was pouring out of the hood and into the car. I said a quick prayer that, 1. We'd make it, 2. That we wouldn't explode into a million pieces and 3. That my legs wouldn't start on fire and Chaco's wouldn't melt to my feet. Once again, "Weh, thank God"…my feet are fine. The car, however, didn't make it much further. We did, however, make it to the Labor Day festivities about 12:30--an hour and a half after they were "supposed" to start. We stood for another hour or so while I had to explain why it wasn't necessary (and actually probably a little inappropriate) to march waving the American flag…I mean, come on, it was no surprise to anyone there that I'm not Cameroonian and this wasn't American labor day…right?

When the time to march actually came, we lined up carefully holding our small Cameroonian and American flags. As the march began (I should point out that marching is a very serious thing…fascist, straight-armed, iron-faced…they're not messing around), I shuffled my feet a little in line with the others only to be ridiculed by a drunken man…

"Girlfriend! My girlfriend!! Left, right, left right! Baby. My girlfriend….left, right, left, right!!!" I stared straight ahead, not following his strict marching orders. As we marched, very seriously, past the grandstand full of important people, I heard the announcer say, "And there's the Peace Corps!" I am the Peace Corps.

After the grandstand stood about 40 cameramen, dressed in their "Fuji-film" vests, stepped out of line to take my picture. It was one of the most unnecessary things I've experienced. It was like I was a Hollywood star leaving the grocery store (if so it would have ended up on that page of US weekly about "stars doing normal things." Although my caption would read something like, "…marches in parades." Not as cool as Jake Gyllenhaul throwing a Frisbee or Meg Ryan buying contact solution or something). But just like an annoyed Hollywood star, I didn't smile at all…not even in the slightest, in fact I scowled. It was awesome, I can't wait to see the pictures posted in town. After that the groups began high-fiving and hugging, seriously congratulating each other on a job well done. For marching? I can only assume. This is, after all, very serious business.

I was hungry, tired and sick of being the center of attention so I hopped in a car back to Ndu. The rain had stopped and the view was spectacular. Mountains in each direction and clear skies, blooming farms in every direction--it was beautiful. To make the ride that much better, I saw a monkey on a leash. What else can you ask for on a Tuesday? It was an experience…one I'll be happy not to repeat but am glad to have done, once. And, in the words of my friend Silas, "Weh, thank God." True.

July 7, 2007 (07-07-07!!!!)

..that picture is my tribute to Anglophone.

First I'd like to say that Ingrid is hard core...she lives in the middle of nowhere--really. Until last year it was the end of the road, like the road actually stopped there. Then there's jungle, that's it. We're talking like Congo basin jungle, not like wimpy palm-trees-and-bush jungle. She eats bush meat and more bush meat. Sometimes goat. There's never electricity, except soemtimes from a generator at the bar and...it's so far away. She gets props for being amazing.

We went to visit her in Ngoyla in the East province. On our first leg of the trip we officially had 6 monkey carcasses on our bus. One was actually under the seat in front of us...we were a little nervous that it may just miraculously come to life and leap up on us. Outbreak? It didn't, it was dead. Also, they smell bad. Monkeys in general, especially dead ones. On travel day #2 we hopped on the ferry/barge/boat (not sure the official title) to cross the river and were quickly shooed back into the van to avoid being eaten alive by little moot-moot flies. It didn't work, we flailed for 20 minutes and still left with spotted ankels and shoulders.

In Ngoyla we were able to meet some of her friends, eat a fruit that turned to gum while chewing it (very difficult...kind of coats your throat with gum when it should just swallow and leaves a thick film of gummy something on your lips...tricky), had a goat for lunch (and dinner cause it was a lot of meat), killed some chickens and ate them, sang SO loudly that we attracted an audience playing our new game "i-oke", spent an entire day on mattresses looking at magazines and having Stacy braid hair, danced at the outdoor bar under the full moon to the enjoyment of about 79% of the Ngoyla male population, hiked out for a short jaunt in the jungle wherein we were shooed (again) by some men bathing in the river and then made an almost Blair Witch Project-like video...we were sad to leave.

Cameroon continues to amaze me with it's diversity, gererous people, beauty and it's "African-ness." The chessiness and sentimental feelings are already starting.

(For more pictures look at eskimolinds.blogspot.com)

Big Trees...sorry, no more insight than that.

The "Bac" crossing the Dja River.

With Madson in the jungle.

I held it, Ingrid cut...

Then we chopped (after it was cooked of course, there's still bird flu after all). :)

So hot right now...

Trying to be African...plantains and kaba and unbrushed hair.

So much girl time. As Stacy said, we braided hair and talked about boys. What else do you need, really?

Ew.

Mieh River going through Ngoyla.

I-oke.

Things I realized:

1. Stacy does a damn good Shakira.

2. I know WAY fewer words to songs than I thought.

3. Kids love the "sha-la-la-la" of Brown Eyed Girl.

Monkeys everywhere!

Again with the girl time...

Just walkin...

More Random Pictures...

Happy 4th of July...party favors, an American flag and hot dogs-All we needed were some fire works.

"Le Transporteur" crossing the river out East.

The rain forest!

Dinner.

So many teeth and braids...me with Ingrid, Stacy, and Lindsay.

Kid with a handless monkey.

"The Entourage"

tle one

June 21, 2007

Random Pictures...

A Baka hut (They're also known as pygmies, but the appropriate name is "Baka"). They build these amazing little huts out of sticks and leaves and live in them--even in complete downpoursca. Very cool.

With the guys...Wes, Charlie, me and Tommy.

My favorite neighbor kids. After months of enduring their song (they would sing, "Hello, how are you? It's good to be with you. Hello..." It went on for a while and was VERY annoying, especially after they stopped singing it and would just scream it at me every time I passed, even if that happened to be 14 times in one day) I started only responding to "Hello." Now they actually think my name is "allo" and call me "Ma Allo."

My friend Charlie's parents came to visit and came to Talla with me to help with baby weighing. They were a hit. This is Denny helping "Doctor" weigh a little one who really just wants to stare at her :)

Rainy season=beautiful clouds that you can't help but stare at (which is dangerous if you're also trying to walk and text at the same time).

My friend Deneis and his wife and kids (Favor and Glenda) on their motorcycle. Travel like this is very common!!

...more to come when I get to fast computers. Thanks to everyone who still actually checks this, sorry I'm bad at updating...life just isn't that exciting! :) Much love from Cameroon.

May 31, 2007

It's been a while...and after a trip to Kumbo to fill my wallet, I decided to quickly upload the 2 blogs I'd written over the past month only to realize that, alas, they're not on my flash drive. So, here I am, sans stuff to upload but countless things I feel I should write about. I won't though, because my time is running out already! So, I'll write a few highlights and promise (for those of you who still actually read this, i.e., my family) to write some long, hopefully entertaining blogs soon.

1. I've been riding a horse around campus with my friend Anna. The horse, Max, belongs to a student named Yong John and he happily lets us gallop around Ndu, bareback. Now, this is very fun until I, clinging only to this exceptionally skinny 9 year old, start sliding off Max's spine and down one side of the blanket-called-saddle. I'm sore but going again this afternoon.

2. Recently on a hiking adventure I slipped (shocking? No.) off a wet long and into a murky creek and consequently my shoes smelled like death...there's really no other description. After 3 days of soaking in bleach and a thorough scrubbing I think I'll be able to wear them again. Or should I say, hope to be able to wear them again.

3. We (being PCV Reese and myself) are working on a big HIV/AIDS seminar for this summer. That's about all, but we're excited about it. More updates soon.

4. Yesterday I was accompanied to Talla baby weighing by my friend Charlie's parents, Earl and Denny. They were a hit, especially when Earl started snapping pictures and when Denny sported the doctor lab coat and weighed dem pikin fine!

5. I've officially been called: Alice, Allen, Alex, and Hillary. Hillary's my favorite because it makes NO sense at all...the others are excusable, in fact I often introduce myself as 'Princess' or 'Louise' because it's fun. Hillary?

That's all for highlights off the top of my head. I'll be putting up good stuff soon, pictures included, so don't give up on me and my future as a consistent blogger!!

Think the Nickelodeon show "Guts" without the confetti blizzard

Buea is the provincial capital of the Southwest province. I had, until a few weeks ago, never been there but heard about many times, as though it were an oasis in the middle of…well, Africa. It's still quite African but the well-paved streets, friendly, well-dressed people (many of them men leading or holding their children—a somewhat rare sight) who could've cared less that white people were mulling around (at least didn't mention it in "whiteman!!" calls), and clean streets were a bit mind-boggling. And there was also the 13,000-ft. volcano looming in the distance that made it a bit different. Unfortunately I was only able to spend a few hours in the town. There was a mountain to climb!

Day 1, “Giddy up!”— 9AM Starting out at 1,000 meters just along the jungle on the edge of Buea town we were able to see the remaining German architecture that litters the city, including the "Governors mansion" that now belongs to the Prime Minister (I think). We were following a path of white painted rocks that guided us all the way to the top (this is where the "Guts" reference comes into play, for those of you who remember that show—many times I felt it necessary to try and hit each rock to avoid a confetti blizzard to plummeting Styrofoam boulder). The jungle was what you'd think; humid, thickly forested, and mossy, with dark brown-black dirt that's characteristic of volcanic soil, so I hear. Once we broke out of the jungle we were in what they call "Savanna." And fortunately or unfortunately (depending on your feelings about heights) it was so foggy that we couldn't see where we were. We were, at this point, right up the front of the mountain on a steep incline, surrounded by fog and trekking up grassy hills, dotted with black rock. The incline

continued to be steep, then steeper, then pretty dang steep. We were climbing right up rocks on almost unidentifiable paths…just following the white rocks, stopping every 5 minutes or so to let our legs stop twitching and take a deep breath. By 5:00 we had reached the Savanna hut, our resting place for the night. The porters and guides sat around the fire talking loudly as we watched the sun set, the clouds clear and the lights of Beua glow below us.

Day 2, part 1 "Summit!": 7AM—From the savanna hut we continued up, this time able to see parts of the town below us. The sky was clear and soon the layers we'd put on with anticipation of the summit were shed and stuffed back into backpacks. It began to look more like "steppe" to me; short grasses, rolling hills and fewer steep inclines. The wind was relentless. We stopped often waiting for the whole group to reach a point, and then continued. After a few false summit-false alarms we turned a corner and there it was. By this point we were taking periodic stops to keep from blowing off the mountaintop, and we'd re-layered our fleeces, hats and gloves. As we were about to summit a big gust ripped off my bandanna and, I was sure, almost ripped Lindsey off the face of the earth. We both stumbled up to the top to find a plaque and the last white rock. As we waited for the rest of the group to arrive we stared off looking at what was Nigeria to one direction and an amazing mountain range to another. Gusts of wind continued the entire time we sat on top, blasting us with fine volcano sand—which was later found in our ears and on our teeth.

Day 2, part 2, "Oh yay, another lava flow!" I guess I should have expected lava—this is a volcano after all. And we had been joking about "liquid hot magma" for weeks but I wasn't prepared to "slide" down decade old lava flows and trip (literally) over hardened and crooked black rock for four more hours. We did. At one point I looked down a hill of crumbly rocks and saw my only chance in 2 years to ski…I took it. I wish Warren Miller could have seen me, swish, swish. Just kidding, it wasn't nearly that cool; in fact I kind of hurt my knee at one point. There was some "bounding" by another friend which resulted in him ending up headfirst in a bush…we settled down to pour rocks out of our shoes. The main lava flow was from the 1920s and had become a rocky wasteland that seemed to go on forever. Passing through some craters from the 1999 and 2000 eruptions was absolutely amazing, aside from that fact that we had to literally take one step at a time down the edge in order to avoid falling in either direction. The ground was still hot and smelled like sulfur…pretty sure we saw some fumes and steam but I think we were probably just hallucinating. We finally began descending to what looked like "Braveheart" scenery to me. I almost expected to see Mel Gibson ride over a ridge, painted blue and wearing a kilt. We didn’t see that, but we did see a radio tower and the mountain that borders with Nigeria—it looks out for people sneaking in through the bush…maybe it could be like Nigeria’s very own “Braveheart.” As the sun was setting and we were on about hour 12 of hiking we trudged over the last hill to Mann's Spring, where we spent night number 2.

After a dinner of instant mashed potatoes and pasta with random ingredients, stirred with the end of a Leatherman, and eaten off dirty plates I prayed for my "GI of steel" to hold strong, cleaned my blisters, popped some ibuprofen and we snuggled into the wigwam for some rest.

Day 3, "And down we go…": With Nalgenes refilled, blistered covered and with thoughts of black sand beaches we headed off on another beautifully clear morning. More Scotland-esque landscape surrounded us, until a thick black road (really, the lava from the 2000 eruption) cut through the hill and stretched on as far as we could see. Thick clouds rolled in and surrounded us. It was beautiful. As we reached the jungle again the descent began to get more drastic and a bit painful on the "skiing in Africa" knee injury. The hazy forest was peaceful and our time was occupied by looking for the best swinging vine, listening for monkeys and wishing we'd see an elephant (FYI, none of those were actually achieved). After I fell into the space between two moss covered and wet rocks the throbbing in my shin took over the knee pain—someone asked, at one point, "Did your knee cap fall into your shin?" It's turned a pretty greenish shade now. We had

about 4 hours left…it was tedious. Reaching the bottom, we celebrated with a cup of mimbo (palm wine) and piled into taxis with our sweaty and smelly porters (we weren't much better smelling, I'm sure). As we drove to Limbe a few hours later, the mountain shot up seemingly from nowhere and dominated the horizon. It didn't look too big from that angle.

That night the storm was unmerciful—thick bolts of lightening, wind and driving rain. We sat under the covered porch of our hotel watching the lightening strike the ocean and we cheersed each other, repeated how great it'd been, and went to bed at 8:00.

Lessons learned:

-When rationing water, Camelbacks are a bad idea. You have no idea how much you have left and you just keep sipping!

-Layers are key.

-Sometimes you luck out and torrential rains take a break…in those cases make sure to apply sunscreen, especially to that random spot of back showing between your tank top and backpack.

-If your friends are very small, make sure you anchor them to the ground when gusts of wind come whipping by. They may or may not fly off.

-Mice can live in almost any condition, especially when there’s peanut butter and almonds to snack on.

-Walking sticks are awesome.

-Bamenda people nah bush people.

-False summits suck.

-Leathermans may be the perfect tool.

-Black lava rock is not snow; take care when attempting to ski.

-Black sand beaches, fresh coconuts, and a cocktails are the best way to rest your tired muscles after climbing almost 10,000 feet up in a day and a half.

***Thanks Lindsey/Lindsay for your pictures!!!!***

...not on mt. cameroon, or near it, but fun all the same (with Lindsay and Kelsey).

April 15, 2007

Some old(er) pictures...

As I mentioned a million times, the dry season was difficult, unbelievable really. So much so that it took a lot of motivation for me to even attempt keeping things clean. I did, though, wash my tennis shoes one day--this is half way through!

Women's Day...always exciting. After a few hours of sitting in the grand stand chanting with other women (most of them in orange, green or maroon outfits, much like the construction orange getup I have on) and hearing about empowerment of the "girl child", I took a break at the guys house. This is with Tommy and Charlie. Ps...you can't really tell from this angle, but the shirt makes me look about 5 months pregnant.

These little girls (carrying a sign reading "future women's group) were a highlight of the day...dancing and paying little attention to marching and singing...but happily posing for me and my camera.

This is "Doctor" weighing a baby at his monthly infant welfare clinic in Talla. Last month over 110 women came to have their children weighed, charted and hear about proper nutrition.

Happy St. Patrick's Day! We celebrated as much as we could!

With green beer...

...and hot dogs roasting on an open fire. They came from a can (ew).

Cameroonians, but specifically the Anglophones, are notorious for writing interesting sayings on their cars. This particular van has been parked in Ndu for about 3 months now...the struggle really does continue.

March 9, 2007

Over the past few months I've found myself being overly negative…I try to stay positive and optimistic, I mean I've always dreamed about living in Africa and in recent years about doing development work and here I am, so why be negative? 2 years is a long time and the cultural differences, frustrations, slow pace of life and work, and the living alone factor adds up. I will, once again, say how thankful I am to have the missionaries here. They've helped maintain my sanity, they are not only an outlet for venting and sharing of cultural "experiences" (if you will), but they are all great friends who have made me feel loved, useful (when I was completely convinced of my worthlessness in Ndu) and needed. But, I felt it necessary to write about some positive things I've seen and experienced recently, if only to re-convince myself of the necessity of my work and time here.

First, the NGO (non-governmental organization) that I work with, Serve the Orphans Foundation, is amazing. In a country full of groups set on "making a difference" or helping society, this group actually is. I've heard horror stories from fellow volunteers about their own NGOs doing no work, being financially non-existent or aimlessly writing proposals yet doing no real work. Serve the Orphans Foundation (or "SOF") is none of those things. I am regularly impressed with the work they're doing; the ambition and excitement they continually put into their projects; the new ideas they come up with; and the virtuous nature of all the people involved. It's a relief to see and really gives hope. It's a great organization full of genuine people working to help orphans and vulnerable children get an education, not get lost, and make a future for themselves. I am grateful to have seen such an organization and hope that they continue to flourish because I think that such a group could really make a difference outside Ndu (where they're working now), in the entire country.

In a small village about 7 kms away from Ndu is a tiny health center. When I say health center I mean a tiny building with four rooms--one with three beds, one office, a meeting/parlor and a delivery room. There's no electricity, no running water in the building, and no actual doctor. There is, however, an extremely honorable man, who being first aid certified and self-motivated, took over that role. He has, to date, delivered 600+ babies, founded the local AIDS committee, holds weekly and monthly meetings with women of the village for infant welfare and vaccination. Each month over 90 women come to weigh their babies and receive health information. I have been going to teach them some of these lessons. Each time I go I am amazed (for lack of a better word) with the attendance, attention and competence of these women--most of whom are illiterate and impoverished. They bring in their babies and young children, listen attentively to me and ask great questions, always offer me tremendous thanks and then stand in line to weight their babies on a makeshift scale. The weight and growth is noted and charted, occasionally the are reminded where the child's weight should be, how to improve nutrition and "doctor" will openly confront women who's children aren't growing well. In Cameroon infant mortality is high, death to malaria, diarrhea and other preventable diseases is very high and nutrition often a problem. To see a small village with such a group is great, admirable…all those things. I am lucky to have seen it and to meet with this group each month to see, first hand, the dedication to their children's development and health.

Not everything has been negative; I just begin to feel a little idle and anxious about moving on, this creates a negative mindset which Kelsey and I intensify by text messaging our daily struggles, countless times a day...or hour, depending. I do really enjoy feeling veteran here though--understanding the culture and language and feeling equip to do almost anything by myself…even though it may lead me to be locked in my house or yelling at people till I'm on the verge of throwing things. Still, it's good to remind myself that there are great organizations and people here who are working so hard for their country and really care, often quite selflessly, about development. Oh, and the rains have come twice!! We're all thankful for that.

*I tried to upload lots of pictures but...it's not cooperating. I'll try to add more later.*

Superbowl, S'morz, Spaghetti and "Suffering"

(written February 10, 2007) Last week, as all of you know, was the Superbowl. After last year’s unsuccessful search to watch the game, I'd given up all hopes of seeing it this year. But, thanks to three friends and the generous hospitality of some other Americans…I got to watch the game! The friends (affectionately called "the triplets" to many, will be referred to as "my entourage" in this blog because of the immense LACK of attention I received from Cameroonian males while traveling with three guys. But for reference sake, their names are Charlie, Wesley, and Tommy).

So, thanks to the world of missionary connections the entourage was able to travel to near Bamenda, to Mbingo, for a Superbowl party. Our generous hosts served us (and about 16 other ex-pats) great food, iced beverages and a big screen display of the game. The hardest part was the 16 hours leading up to the showing…since we were watching a recorded version; we had to avoid all contact with phones, Internet and Western looking people in case the score somehow slipped out. We made it, even though I had three unopened text messages on my phone (all day) with the score! The house in Mbingo was amazing, we were watching American football, eating great food, and were surrounded by Americans discussing football stats and past Superbowl weather conditions…for most of the evening I forgot where I was. (And Kappas, I'll be honest, I teared a little when, at the end of the game, I could hear "These are the Days" playing in the background of the trophy ceremony).And despite our bumpy, dusty, crowded travel in an occasionally overheating van with seven other people and topped with a living rooms worth of cane furniture, it was worth it!! (Sorry there’s no picture for this one, we were all to enthralled with the game to get out cameras!)

For many of the Sunday nights since September, at least the ones when I'm in town, I've spent

the evening making spaghetti dinner with the entourage. I'd like to say that they have mastered the art of sauce making…it could be jarred and sold! Usually dinner is followed by an episode of the Office or a movie...but a week or so after I returned from my month-long excursion around Cameroon, I returned to Ndu to dinner followed by s'morz! My mom brought over the fixings and the entourage was nice enough (apparently despite the begging of visiting Americans) to wait for me to make them! It was messy but wonderful. Who knew that burning marshmallows in a fireplace could be so amazing? It was!

January in Ndu…mid dry season and this is the only thing that I can think of…probably because it determines everything I do, demands daily attention and is just everywhere. This isn't normal sandy American dust, this is supernatural, flour-like, pavement-lacking, air-clogging, sunset-altering, getting into every space…this is (dramatic pause) "Ndu Powder." Every morning I wake up and my cement floor is covered, wall-to-wall, with a thin layer of red, which has seeped in overnight through the doorway, window gaps or fireplace. Outside my porch has inches, literally, over the entire area--it's like there was a small "dusting" (no pun intended) of snow but this is red and brown and everywhere. Regardless of my choice of footwear, it's understood that it will get in, through socks, shoes and probably rubber boots, if I chose to take that route. I choose sandals, mostly because that's all I own and wearing tennis shoes with skirts…that's a whole other story. By the time I get out of my house, up my path and to my chosen destination, there is a thick black line on my heel, my toenails (despite the red polish) are taking on a different reddish hue, and half way up my calves are spotted with what appears to be pantyhose. I mutter to myself "step lightly" over and over while I aim for what appears to be the least endangering spot. Sure enough one misstep and I’m ankle deep in power. When I hear the hum of a motorcycle or car coming, I cautiously move aside, probably to a patch of dying grass, and close my eyes, hold my breath and brace myself for the cloud that will follow. Sure enough, seconds later I'm engulfed in a cloud of thick brown particles. My hair takes the brunt of this attack, sucking up as much dust as possible, like it was water. Soon it's sticky with the coating of dirt. So, sunglasses are wiped clear and I head out again, dreading the next passing vehicle. We can soak, scrub, sweep, and use soap, bleach, and bucket after bucket of water but it makes no difference. We in Ndu press on, through sun, dust and lack of water. We dream of April when the roofs will regain their silvery glow, shoes and feet don't need to be pounded or cleaned multiple times a day and the powder will settle until it's so saturated with water that we won't be able walk without an umbrella turned walking stick. But at times like these when our skin, eyes, lungs, and especially the insides of noses are overflowing with a thin layer of brown we forget the other perils that come with the downpours in August. We simply endure and take comfort in the fact that, without fail, every conversation we have from now until that first rain, will at least mention (if not consist completely of) the dust.So, until next time…I'll be out there, feet and hair a little darker than before, endlessly sweeping my house and dreaming of April--or at least running water!

February 21.2007…A few incidents worth noting…1. I locked myself IN my house recently while trying to change the locks on the front door. My mood went from greatly empowered bad-ass to embarrassed loser who would die alone in her house.2. During a conversation with 2 Cameroonian men (and Wes & Charlie) we began discussing the "what men can do, women can do better" theme of last year's Women's Day…well I'm sure you can see where this is going. Not only was I argued with overthe fact that women can have babies better (as in give birth to them) then one boldly said…"But you couldn't climb that tree!" What?! Thankfully I had two quite supportive American males to back me up when I laughed out loud at this comment. We made no progress in women's ability to do things, like climb trees and have babies. Typical. 3. I STILL (almost 1 year later) do not have running water in my house.4. Current book count: 64

February 10, 2007

Countless computer viruses are taking over Ndu so my already written blog from the past few weeks is coming but will be delayed due to computer issues. Hope all's well with everyone! Keep in touch!

January 19, 2007

Just a few random picture from my week in Yaounde...

There was an intense beer pong tournament (using big plastic bowl rather than cups), this is an action shot.

Rebecca and I were the cheer team. We did, however, lack significant enthusiasm, but posed numerous time to make it look like we were trying.

The French Club in Yaounde has a great pool and we laid out poolside one afternoon. I swam a grand total of a 100 and called it a day. It was too nice just sitting there!

I had my hair braided by my friend Stacy...the best part was either when the Cameroonian women would stroke it and click in approval or the brightly colored hair things on the bottom

I've been away from Ndu far too long and I'm very anxious to get back. Although I am sad that my timing was a bit off...last weekend I was able to watch one of the NFL playoff games at a diplomat's house on some international diplomat channel with HILARIOUS commercials. It was very fun, I just wish I could do it again for the Superbowl. Anyhow, now it's back up to the dust to enjoy cold Ndu, the American food that did make it here with my mom and all the national holidays that come from February-May!

January 12, 2007

I thought I'd post a few more pictures from their trip. For some reason they're really small...I don't know why (and am too lazy to it figure out). The first picture is Harry with a Fon...this one has 50+ wives and over 150 children. It was not my favorite place, in fact it was very upsetting. But, that's for another email.

We were all very glad to get to Ndu where we had dinner with some of my friends, who had a roaring fire going, and we all wore sweatshirts. It was a drastic change from the horrendous humidity and heat in Douala.

Lindsey and me at the Hilton happy hour on Mom and Harry's last night in Cameroon...2 for 1 drinks at a very nice hotel (they even had ice cubes, blended and real mixed drinks...amazing).

At "down beach" in Limbe the small fishing boats (like this one) go out numerous times a day. They bring in fresh fish all day long which you can eat right on the beach while watching the sun set. It's not too shabby...

Ah, beautiful Yaounde. This is the view from the Hilton bar.

My friend Emmanuella and me at dinner in Bamenda one night. It was kind of nice having mom there with her camera ready at all times. Even when she videoed out the window of crowded streets and random villages.

Here are some parts from our Christmas letter. I thought I could write a whole blog about it until I realized that the Christmas letter covered most of the good stuff so...here it is. It was great to have people visit so that they could actually 'see' life here...it is very hard to explain how things are. Nobody will ever understand how much dust there really is in Ndu unless they see it for themselves, the transport is unfathomable, the begging, selling, markets, food, frustrations, difficulties, wonderful people...everything is so hard to explain so I'm so glad someone got to see it, even if it was just for 20 days.

Happy Happy* It’d be difficult and, no doubt, fairly boring to recall all the events from Betsy and Harry’s holiday trip to Cameroon so we discussed some highlights to share. Unfortunately none of our day-to-day activities are very exciting—Betsy is still teaching, nannying and loving Steamboat (I think she said, “I live in paradise” at least 48 times on this trip!). Harry is in his third year at UCCS, continues to plan his inevitable world travel and study business. Ally is in Cameroon dead set on reaching a record solitaire score and read 100 novels in a year, she tries to do Peace Corps work now and then. Jake is now chasing tennis balls in doggy heaven. We miss him everyday. Their trip began eventful enough—the blizzard of ’06. It hit the day before their scheduled departure and everyone in the US (well the world really, due to things like the internet and CNN International) knows that DIA was shut down, stranding thousands and ruining Christmases. Thankfully our two weary travelers made their way to Vail. Betsy danced around in her Santa hat trying to convince the already overwhelmed Delta/Air France employee to give them the last two seats in coach. Harry lay comatose on the floor due to massive amounts of sinus medication. They arrived in Douala 20 hours later, exhausted, almost delirious and missing 2 bags.

Over the 20 days we successfully played 30 (this is a total guess but probably not far off) games of gin rummy—Ally has won once.

The French parts of Cameroon (i.e., a majority of it) were, what’s the word? Interesting? Translation was frustrating and tiring but Ally only started making things up on the last day. Harry bargained and learned a good 10 useful phrases. Betsy did her best too only really messing up once, saying, “bon noir” (“good black”) instead of “bon nuit” (“good night”) to our waiter.

After watching an irritating music video of Gwen Stefani’s version of the yodeling marionette song from The Sound of Music, it was hummed and sung quietly for a week. After Betsy began singing “climb every mountain” while we hiked (our overheated van leaving us to trek up a steep hill followed by swarms of begging African children) we decided that The Sound of Music was sort of a theme for the trip. Really it applies very little—no singing groups of German siblings, no Nazis (at least that we’re aware of), and no towering, snowy Alps. In fact, northern Cameroon looks a lot like Eastern Utah, not Austria. Either way, it was good for a few laughs.

When you hear the term “private car” most think of a nice car—leather seats, perhaps, and seat belts, for sure. In Cameroon, that means very little. During our trip we rode in a van with 16 others, a compact car with 5 others and, on one occasion, all the cargo strapped to the top began to shift and two of our bags actually took flight off the top. We rode the night train, big buses, many smaller cars and zipped around Maroua (in the Extreme North) on the back of motorcycles. We all cherish pavement, seat cushions and emissions testing a lot more than ever!

A last high light was our “safari” in Waza National Park. At one point the three of us sat, perched atop our red van as it bounced through the savannah next to animals. We saw many kinds of antelopes, tons of birds, warthogs, monkeys, giraffes, and spent an hour on a wild goose chase (or should I say ‘wild elephant chase’) for, well…elephants. We saw elephant poop, elephant tracks and even a place where the elephants had romped around in the mud that morning. But, alas, no elephants. It only sparked our interest in future safaris. We’re thinking Kenya 2010. Interested?

There are many more stories and at least 3 memory cards full of pictures, which any of us will gladly share, but for now, we’ll leave it here. Betsy’s off washing one of her three shirts in the sink (the 4th bag is still “missing”) and Harry is planning his future luxury hotel complex—complete with huts. So, I sit here, thankful for so much and wishing you all an exciting, eye opening, and enjoyable 2007—like our 20 days together in Cameroon.

* “Happy Happy” is an appropriate response in Anglophone Cameroon to someone wishing you a ‘Happy Christmas,’ ‘Happy New Year,’ or really a happy anything. So, Happy Happy!!

January 8, 2007

A few random pics from three weeks o' fun...

1. At Waza national Park

2. Triplets (ha, sorry guys).

3. Women walking on a bridge in Maroua

4. Mom on a moto.

5. Giraffe!

January 1, 2007

Happy New Year to everyone! We have survived Cameroon (and each other) for eleven days. It has been fun though not without a few mishaps, if you will. One of mom's bags is still missing, all 3 of us almost drown in the Ndu dust and I've put them in too many bush taxis...there was one specific incident in which two of our bags actually took flight off the top and landed, quite forcefully, on the pavement. Christmas was spent watching Harry be swarmed by interested Cameroonian teenagers wanting to "snap" with him and exchange email addresses on the beach. For new years we watched (and listened to) and ROCKING party outside our hotel which had fireworks, beeping "Santa Claus is coming to town," and balloons ALL NIGHT LONG... Harry's carried a bag on his head, we've gone through at least 3 travel bottles of Purel and Mom joined the "walking club" as we did our weekly Jane Fonda workout (I'm not kidding...). There are many pictures and details coming later, hopefully one or two pictures too--maybe with lions.

Happy 2007!!

The 12 Days of Christmas…

(Just fill these into the normal words and you

have a song written especially for Christmas

in Cameroon)

On the first day of Christmas a whiteman gave to me,

Some achu in a foufou bowl

…Two sugar canes

…Three broken taxis

…Four pus pus carts

…Five kola nuts

…Six kicking goats

…Seven mamis fighting

…Eight roasted plantains

…Nine Nigerian movies

…Ten singing light strings

…Eleven Castel Milk Stouts

…Twelve Bia panges

Thanksgiving Chaos...yes, we did kill our own turkey (ok, "I" just took the pictures, but still...). What, do you think they have Butterball here? Um, nope...

November 28, 2006

Happy Thanksgiving!! I was lucky enough to be able to spend actual Thanksgiving eating homemade pretzels and hummus with friends and then travel to a PC gathering. We had a great time killing, cooking and eating our numerous birds—at one point the turkey, almost dead and nearly headless, flew off into the bush. It gave a whole new meaning to the statement "like a chicken with it’s head cut off." We stayed at a beautiful place with the best water pressure in all of Cameroon. A few of us did facemasks which, while drying, globed off into our breakfast, fished with bamboo poles and waxy cheese crust, and watched clips of "Black Vampire" (the wonderfully made Cameroonian film starring Kelsey and Reese…it came complete with music by Michael Jackson and ware wolf and satanic seagull noises. Oscar worthy.) While I did come back with 9000 mosquito bites and there was one, quite heated, travel debacle, it was well worth it.

PICTURES:

1…View from one side of the chalet

2…Sunrise (a little like Lion King? I thought so...)

3…Recovered turkey, still headless, from the bush

4…The turkey, mid-throat cut, pre dash into the bush

5…African travel (and yes, if you can't tell, I'm slightly annoyed)

Now, bring on the Christmas music!

November 6, 2006

It’s just normal…like Asian window decals and Nigerian Christian music turned up so loud you can’t understand a word…

So, like many things, the simplicity of daily conversations barely fazes me anymore. However, I feel it is my duty (in accordance with Peace Corps goal number three) to educate you, all my friends and family not in Cameroon, on some facts about the commonplace interactions that occur.

Person: “Ah, Miss Ally. You have come?”

Me: “Yes. I am here. How?”

Person: “No, fine. It is just normal. How for you?”

Me: “No, fine. It is going.”

Person: “So, you are here?”

Me: “Yes. I am just here.”

Person: “Ashia.”

Me: “Thank you.”

(Awkward silence)

Me: “Well, see you.”

Person: “Yes. Next time.”

So there is it everyone…amazing huh? It still strikes me as wonderful (wundaful too) that I can have a conversation and say only about ten different things. One key lesson learned is that when asked how you are, you always start with “no.” This indicates to the person who asked that, in fact, nobody has died. Neat.

Life in Ndu is fine. Same old. Aside from lots of travel coming up, both for holidays and Peace Corps stuff, I haven’t been doing much—planning a girls club that’s only happened once and continuing to plan our “hike tour” which may or may not actually happen in February—we’ll see! The rain is letting up; the dust is already piling up and my water supply dwindling. The neighbor kids are about to start working a lot harder to supply me enough water until I can get running water back (note, I’ve been saying this about the water coming back since March). But, thankfully, I am lucky enough to have wonderful missionaries with hot water heaters full of water that has been readily offered to me to use at my disposal. I may make it a weekly event. Showers at the Seminary…Maybe that’s what I’ll entitle my first novel! Now I’m rambling.

A recent discovery that I’d like to share is espn.com scoreboard. For a few of the past Sunday nights we’ve (we being my “trio” of Americans who also happen to be missing NFL—hi again, guys. Ashia) pulled it up and watched anxiously every two minutes or for each update—scores, yards, possession, etc. It’s almost like watching a game on TV…with a few minutes delay and no actual football. We’ll take what we can get at this rate! Go Broncos (and the Pack…we’re still hopeful).

That’s all from here…over and out.

October 15, 2006

I just got back from Limbe. It's amazing...the whole 4+ hours back to Yaoude I tried to think of a better word to describe it...obviously that didn't happen, maybe because I was distracted my the old Mami throwing up next to me or because I was gripping the seat in front of me for dear life as we passed massive trucks going easily 120 km/hr on a 2 lane road. Either way, my trip lasted less than 24 hours (ok, not necessarily the "trip" but the time spent in Limbe) but was worth the long travel, the petrifying 40 minutes I was lost in Douala and definitely the 12 pounds I lost sweating today while I traveled back! I even had my own personal tour guide...PCV Bill.

I stayed in a hotel inside the botanical gardens with an air conditioner that created a tundra-like ambiance--I was freezing--where I was able to watch a slightly scrambled Daily Show on CNN; ate freshly caught and grilled fish on the beach, under a clear starry sky; strolled along black sand beaches; gazed up at Mount Cameroon and began planning our pending ascent in March; waded in luke warm water and watched a storm roll in over Equatorial Guinea, the whole time thinking, “yeah, they’re right…we really are suffering.” I can’t wait to spend Christmas there; maybe I’ll wear a Santa hat while I do laps in the natural spring pool (if so, I’ll be sure to attach pictures). But, on the ride back as I sat in the sweltering humidity of Douala, seeing my hair expand in my peripheral vision, trying to navigate my way around the “arm pit of Africa” with my fridgin and glare while also swatting bugs and feeling my face fry in the sun…I realized that, despite the greatness of the coast, how glad I am to be living in the “coldest place in Cameroon.” The pictures are both from the beach, looking out towards Equatorial Guinea (that big island out there with clouds around it).

Probably the strangest 365 days of my life… Well it’s official, as of October 1st; we’ve been in Cameroon for one year (I don’t count my 2 ½ week vacation)! Oh, how time flies! Looking back on pictures I tried to pick some that represented some of the big or interesting or typical moments from the past 12 months. I couldn’t include them all because a) computers are too slow b) my blog isn’t that big and c) there just isn’t time for 2 memory cards full of pictures. It’s been a year full of changes; eye opening experiences, great friendships, bizarre events, weird food, crowded cars, too much and far too little precipitation, and learning oh so many things—about me and about how to function washing everything from a bucket. Here is a quick visual from my year in Cameroon, some of the highlights, if you will. There’s many more to come, next winter, for any who’s interested I’m sure I’ll be happy to give a full and detailed slideshow!

PC Cameroon sign—This is painted on the side of one Peace Corps car, representing our proud 45 years here in Cameroon.

Hotel in Yaounde—this is a group of us during out first few days in Cameroon. Awkwardly getting to know each other over cards at the hotel, still fresh and shiny from America.

1. Me at cheferie—during one of our field trips to a palace we met many dancers and this fine man, proudly posing with us…and his gun.

Health group at swearing in—the health group as official Peace Corps Volunteers

Buses to post—we hired huge vans to carry us with our stuff to our respective posts. As you can see, they were piled quite high. At one point one of the loaders was almost ripped off the top when the driver tried to make up under an archway. He was fine, but I was pretty sure he had been decapitated in the process!

Chicken—for New Years Eve 2006 we grilled chicken and I was advised on how to pry the leg off the bone, not quite frozen Butterball chicken breast, huh? It might be the flap of something hanging that makes the whole thing so appealing, I’m not sure.

My first roadblock—this was my first encounter with roadblock protests. It reminded me of a winter Sunday afternoon on I-70 with the post-ski traffic. Except there was no snow, any skiers, and it wasn’t just a traffic jam. Kribi—during our training at the beach we were surrounded by tropical images like this one.

Talla with kids—Kids just love to have their pictures taken so they were happy to pose with us as we sported our African garb during a church program that lasted ALL day long.

Rainy season—the daylong downpours caused me to spend lots of time on my couch; reading, doing suduko puzzles or mastering the art of fire building (without kerosene). This helped me achieve my goal of reading 50 books in a year—ok; I didn’t actually finish the 50th one until October 5 but close enough!

Happy 4th of July—this is Ben, one of the missionary kids, with me during our 4th of July celebration, which came complete with hot dogs, cheesy patriotic American music, and ice cream!

Tapas at Kelsey’s—one of my best weekends in Cameroon was spent in Bafut with Kelsey and Kate. We watched tons Sex and the City, successfully removed a lizard from the kitchen using a colander and oven mitt, went running to the entertainment of the entire town, and ate tapas under palm trees before the rain fell.

Ladies night—a fun night out in America with my “siblings.”

Out of the many, many interesting signs I see around, this one made me laugh a lot (particularly, point #1).

So here’s to another 365 days in Cameroon. May they be just as exciting/educating/interesting/funny/ tiresome/adventurous…choose your favorite.

PS...Hi to "Team Unity" my trio of new Americans in Ndu!

PPS...Miss you Donnelly.