Running in Kigali, Rwanda is polar opposite to Running in Goma, DRC. First of all, where we are staying, the roads are all paved, thus there is no dust or pot holes to contend with. Secondly, When you are looking out one sees rows of identical housing complexes that conjure up images of suburban America. Thirdly, there are not too many motos or cars to share the road with. It is a peaceful, amicable running climate donned with undulating hills.

We came to Kigali from Goma. Running in Goma, is mentally challenging at best. You have to brave the pot holes, succumb to the dust, dodge the cars and motos and the scenery...well, frankly, you can't focus too much on the scenery due to all of the potholes.

I feel so thankful to had experienced all of the various African running venues, in 5 countries, this past 1.5 months. Some have been more ideal than others. However, whether I've been running in Major Metropolitan areas like Nairobi and Daar Es Salaam, or in various Peace Corps Volunteers Posts in the middle of nowhere, I have loved engaging in my favorite hobby in some amazing locales.

Tanzania was phenomenal. Between the beautiful scenery, the pleasant, amicable Tanzanians, the delicious food, and the deep-rooted culture, it was a great 2.5 weeks. Abba and I chose to start our EAA (East African Adventure) in Tanzania and it was a smart decision. Zanzibar was relaxing and very colorful, full of tasty Indian delights and Tropical fruits. When not eating we lounged on the gorgeous, vaste white sandy beaches and toured the twists and turns of Stone Town, the once epicenter for Swahili culture. Zanzibar turns Cancun at night, so we had a few good nights partying with a diverse, international crowd on the beach. In general I have been in a stimulation overload meeting so many people from all over the world. Being a Peace Corps volunteer in a tiny, homogenous village for 2 years does not leave much room to meet other from outside of the village. So I have taken advantage of trying to socialize with as many people as possible and make up for the last 2 years! (i.e. I'm not getting a lot of sleep).

After Zanzibar, we headed to Dar Es Salaam, a more organized, eclectic, western influenced city that has many beaches and wafts of ocean, breezy air. Reminded me a tad of Dakar, Senegal for it's ocean-side location. Next, we headed to Lushoto, the "Switzerland of Tanzania." At one point a haven for German colonialists, Lughoto was a nice forested, mountainous, green respite from the bustle of Dar. Finally, we ended our N. Tanzania tour at Moshi and Arusha to finish up with a Serengeti/Ngorngoro Crater Safari. Despite not being a huge animal enthusiast,I got totally into the safari and found it rather therapeutic. When one is enraptured in watching animals, one's worried subside. You get trapped in watching the animals and only think of the present--the animals you will see. Quite nice. I also enjoyed Arusha for its East African United- Nations- feeling (an African Studies Students dream) and all the good restaurants!

Now we are in Nairobi....once again amazed by all the good food and hustle and bustle. In general here are some generalizations that we noted between Tanzania and Cameroon:

1. Good, solid National Highways.

2. Cars/buses that leave on time.

3. Great diversity in food, esp. Indian Food

4. wonderful cheap coffee on the streets

5. Garbage bins on the side of streets, in general, less trash ridden

6. Very friendly population, everywhere we went!!! Reminded me of my village with the salutations.

7. Peanut Butter is ubiquitous

8. Less Derangement, rarely would someone come up and pester you

9. Conservation in the National Parks was note-worthy.

10.Seemed like more law-abiding on the highways, i.e. pulled people over for having too many passengers in the cars.

OK, hope this finds everyone well! Bonne Annee! We are continuing on our journey. Asante Sana, Kwa Heri,

Ali

A Local Food Lover’s Paradise—Rural Africa

Little did I know that I am en vogue. . I’m en vogue due to my unconscientiously supporting the local food movement these past 2 years. Living in Rural Africa makes following this trend very easy. Particularly, not knowing how to cook and eating at my neighbor’s houses nightly who don’t buy packaged, industrialized goods has made this effort very possible.

This past 9 months I have read Fast Food Nation, The Omnivore’s Dilemma, and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, three books that in someway or another mentioned the importance of supporting local food growers, as opposed to the industrial large corporations that have taken over the American Food System. Prior to coming to the Peace Corps, when I was getting by during college by scarfing down muffins and peanut butter, eating locally rarely crossed my mind. I considered myself a very typical college student, one who inwardly supported all the a la mode causes, but who oftentimes lived hypocritically not vocalizing my opinion nor trying to inform others to abide by causes I believed to be important. Rushing, busy, liberal-minded career oriented Americans are often guilty of hypocrisy, knowing it would be wonderful to support such or such cause, but not finding the time to actually abide by its’ tenets. That was me with the local food movement.

Then I entered PC and was shipped to Rural Africa, amidst an agricultural hinterland, amongst agriculturalists who earn their bread and butter by having a good harvest. If they don’t have a good harvest their family will suffer and, potentially, starve or become sick from malnutrition. Hence, the importance of my community to carefully respect their land and their animals who fertilize their land. I cringe when I see the onset of fertilizers on the farmer’s fields and the perhaps long-term ramifications of using these fertilizers in a haphazard fashion. The food that my villagers grow is the food that they use to sustain themselves throughout the year. Corn, similar to in the US, is their main crop. Although their cornfields are not nearly as neat and stacked as the typical fertilizer entrenched US corn field, a typical family’s corn field, will give them enough corn flour to provide an average family of 8 people enough main substance of food for 12 months. This is what my base has been for the last two years—corn flour.

Then, comes the sauces and vegetables to go with the boiled corn flour. All of my vegetables that I have eaten these past few years have come from local grown gardens not more than a few km. away from my house! These have provided luscious, savory sauces. Opposite as to most Americans, here we eat what is in season, during their respectful seasons, especially since there is no refrigeration. Meaning, when squash is ripe (Novermber-January) we eat squash everyday. Avocado season (December-March) is replete with daily avocado salads and sandwiches. Mango season (March-May) is my favorite; chock full of juicy, vitamin laden mangoes that are tasty as a dessert or snack alike. Sure there are days that I have felt lethargic and consequently pinpointed my low-blood sugar due to the dearth of vitamins.

Contrary to the occasional shortage of fruits and vegetables, one can get their share of protein without too much effort. Meat is available nearly every other day and if one has the means, one could also splurge and buy chicken, sheep or goats. The other week during the feast of the goat, Tabaski, I had sheep nearly 5-10 times a day. I think I’ve eaten enough sheep to get me through the next few years.

Dairy is also abundant in my village, due to its being surrounded by cows and cow herders. Especially during the rainy season every morning, while I go for my run at 5:30, men will go to milk the cows. While I’m getting my share of exercise by running, others are getting their exercise by walking kilometers away to milk the cows. Unfortunately there is no refrigeration. However, there are also no chemicals nor preservatives added to the milk. I have gotten inured to the taste of fresh, hearty milk, (of course boiled beforehand). Yogurt can also be ordered in advance. Coffee can also be grown in my village, however, it is a rather new crop.

As far as fast food is concerned, there is none. People eat three meals a day at home. It is rare to see food packaging and waste like we have in America. Hence, why my plastic containers that contain my various purchases such as powdered milk and peanut butter are so coveted. Household trash is severely mitigated due to buying locally, not having the means to buy westernized food items and not having refrigeration.

TO BE CONTINUED, MAYBE.

Yay for Electricity…With One Month Left!

What do ya know, I get electricity with one month left of post! Perhaps it’s the electricity that is kicking me out. It’s saying, “Ali, it’s time to get back to a developed place,” or it’s simply helping me acclimate to life with light. Do not be fooled, “getting electricity,” constitutes 4 hours of light 18h to 22h. Half of my house still is not set-up nor is over half of the village, notably the health center (!?!) I can safetly say that due to the lack of light, although it did not facilitate computer use nor easy night cooking, it did facilitate meeting people in village, forcing myself to leave the house at night and, hence, integration. Thank you!

SO….30 days and counting. I’m becoming emotionally unstable. I have already started my goodbyes and it is saddening. I’m trying to scrounge up bad memories of Tourningal; i.e. being sick, getting into accidents, the poor roads, the monotonous food, teaching endless hours of English, dust, etc. for perhaps it will be easier to leave. I try to say to myself, whether it’s today or next year, sometime I will leave—I can’t stay in Tournignal forever. I’m trying to coordinate my time to a T, that is, I’m implementing rules: Make myself deal with the kids coming over, stomach the hundreds of daily salutations, the demands from everyone, try not to take naps, little-to-no Pleasure reading, etc. in order to maximize my last month at post. But regardless of what I try to do to soak in this last month and to minimize the pain of leaving, the inevitable is approaching.

Here are some recent thoughts from Tournignal:

1. Early Marriages—I recently looked at a photo of a Youth Camp I did in June 2008. Off the 11 girls that participated in the camp, only 4 are still in school. This feels like a defeat for me. It feels frustrating to know that all the information and encouraging I tried to partake in, was unsuccessful I have seen dozens of girls get married, pregnant, and have children in my two years. I feel like an old maid. Last week I attended a 16 year old girls wedding. She, like so many of her peers, felt pressured to get married. Once they are married and have children, the girls are like prisoners in their own compounds, rarely getting to leave and rarely having freedoms. Although I have tried to stomach their cultural customs, even after two years, this tradition is stiffing and from a western perspective, antiquated.

2. World AIDS Day—Preparations are under way for World AIDS Day 2009. Brandi, a close volunteer and I, are organizing an essay contest for the local high schools with a HIV prevention theme, and a celebration for the actual day; composed of a parade, a soccer match, running competitions, and a personal account of someone who actually has HIV. We targeted a certain village to do this celebration in, due to its’ high populations of “femme libres,” or prostitutes.

3. Refugee Situation—Recently I have had the opportunity to visit and learn about the Refugee Situation in the Eastern Adamawa Region. Supposedly, according to Medical officials and NGO workers in the area over 12,000 Central African Refugees have been forced into exile in Cameroon within the last few years. Most of the refugees come from the Mboboro ethnic group; a group that is composed naturally of cow herders who fled the instability in the CAR. With this exodus comes the onslaught of inevitable health and sanitation concerns; HIV/AIDS, malnutrition, etc. I have never seen so many cases of malnutrition, pure devastation and poverty. It was quite the sobering, humbling experience. It opened my eyes to many aspects of Humanitarian Work; such as, the isolating conditions. It’s crazy to think how just a few hours from where I live there is a massive Humanitarian Problem that gets little to no press coverage and NGO aide! Who knows what awaits me in the years to come; however, working with refugees and Disaster Relief is something that perhaps will pique my interests.

Sey Yeeso, Allah Hokku en Jam,

Ali

As of late I have had bad luck with travel. Note-- I’m writing this during my 18th hour of sitting on the train. Sure it is the end of the rainy season and the roads, or trails, are wet, slippery, and hazardous. However, it seems like every time I travel I either take twice the amount of “normal travel time” (which is quite ambiguous) or get into an accident.

Three weeks ago, as my counterpart and I were trying to maneuver the poor, slippery trails en brousse, I was burned by a motorcycle muffler. This may seem like a trivial event, yet the lack of immediate medical care and my obstinacy that “nothing was wrong” (I was taking the advice of villagers that pus and liquid oozing down my legs and swollen lymph nodes was a common step to the healing process) compounded the incident and made me visit the hospital over 10 times. I ended up staying in Ngaoundere for nearly a week. Ironically, during first role in the Cameroonian hospital scene seen, I was cared for by Norwegian nurses and even an American Surgeon, in a Norwegian Lutheran funded hospital. It was a bizarre experience. Needless to say my short-sightedness about how easy infection can occur and the importance of cleaning wounds was a humbling experience.

Getting sick in rural Africa is a difficult endeavor that involves long-bureaucratic hospital visits (what? I have to go out of the hospital to buy my medicine, then come back to the hospital and pay, then go back to the nurses for them to take care of me with the medicine I bought???) and plenty of money that most Africans don’t have. I spent nearly 40 dollars on my visits. 40 dollars is just about what the average Cameroonian makes a month. Hence why most Cameroonians wait to the last minute to go to the hospital or to bring their kids to the hospital. They wait to the last minute for a cure, or a miracle, so they will not have to shell out their couple of months salary that they don’t have, or ask a far-flung relative for credit. Needless to say, this experience has made me greatly appreciate American hospitals, despite the increasing criticism they receive. If not for their cleanliness, I appreciate the explicit rules that are in place. I appreciate that no one (usually) cuts you in line to pay for your medicine at the Pharmacy. I appreciate that you have the opportunity to see a doctor. I appreciate that normally you don’t have to wait all day just to get a small wound cleaned.

Besides getting injured, life has been fine in Tourningal. The Good-byes have started. The guilt for leaving post has kicked in. It’s hard to explain to people that it’s not because of them that I’m leaving. I love Tourningal and I have loved my friends, “family” and work. It’s hard to leave a place when you are perfectly content and hard to describe to villagers that have never leaved why you would leave if you are happy. Despite the attenuation of work these last few weeks, I have managed to get a bit of work done; notably still meeting with Women’s Groups and holding a few ceremonies to distributePre-Natal Consulation Materials, such as scales and blood-pressure cuffs. The Ceremonies are memorable. Dozens of villagers, both male and female, congregate. Together we discuss the importance of allowing women’s groups to meet and sending pregnant women to the hospital to do pre-natal consultations. Now is the ultimate test; if the trained women are going to educate their respective community members and if the under-staffed health center staff is going to take the time to consult pregnant women en brousse during their monthly vaccination schedules. On va voir. I hope that the person who replaces me will continue to follow though with these projects. This is one of the ultimate problems with development—sustainability.

Well, hope this finds all healthy and happy in the US! Hope you are having nice autumns. There is no changing of foliage here in Cameroon (except green to dry).

Allah Hokku en Jam,

Ali or Amina

Is it even possible for me to get any more rest in village? During Ramaddan it is. I have enjoyed this month to the utmost degree. After the hussle and bussle of America and the continuous doldrums of seminars (many of which were very helpful) during our Close-of-Service in chaotic Yaounde I triumphantly arrived back to village (Of course to hoards of kids shouting and welcoming me upon my arrival.) After catching up on much needed sleep and sleeping in about 6 hours past when most get up in village, to a rebellious 9 a.m., for a few days, I was good to go and started to undertake the joys of fasting…

Although I am not fasting for religious or spiritual reasons, I have learned a lot during my fasting process. 1. You can survive without eating for 24 hours 2. Eating makes life more interesting 3. Without eating one’s energy level dramatically abates, i.e. running not recommended 4. The best way to not be thirsty is to shut yourself in your house, bar your windows from the kids, curl up in bed and read or nap. Fasting makes me appreciate the trials that my friends, colleagues and neighbors have to go through. The best part of course is breaking of the fast; i.e. a mini party each night, where families gorge themselves on three or four course meals, until approximately 10 pm, that are loaded with sugary and oily delights, only to wake up again 5 hours later and eat before the sun rises. It’s quite the cycle which that leads to the mighty holiday of the End of Ramadan. In a small village that’s all that anyone talks about—the holiday. My friends say that in the Koran it is written that one should buy new clothes if they can for the holiday. Thus, everyone tries to buy new clothes for their families and spends the money they could be spending on sending their kids back to school on clothes. The women spend hours a day preparing for the fete; getting their hair done and putting henna on their feet and hands. Although this lunar month has been nice for my sleep, I will be glad to get back to my normal metabolic schedule and not feel like I’m going to pass out come 4 p.m.

In addition to fasting, I have been getting some work done and certain instances have been quite encouraging. Namely, it has been great to see the progression of many women’s groups that I have helped to start and organize. These groups went from being very informal to large, organized meetings in months! It’s amazing. The groups, generally comprised of about 30-60 members, (mainly female) get together each month, form small village banking structures, and have all done projects such as planting bean, corn, soy or potato fields. I’m excited to see the groups reap their, hopeful benefits that will come if they continue to work together and mobilize. In addition to working in the cadre of women’s group mobilization I’m still working to bring health supplies to 4 of the villages to help them undergo pre-natal exams en brousse. This project will aide the women not have to travel up to 60 km to health centers to do pre-natal exams, not to mention the costs. Instead the nurses will come to the villages during their routine monthly vaccination schedule and help to toned-down pre-natal consuls. Of course en brousse it is impossible to do complete blood and urine tests. Each village is getting; a scale, fetus scope, blood pressure screening and meter ribbon to help measure the correct development of their pregnancies. Prior to going home to the states in August, women in the villages, who are also part of the women’s groups were trained to help monitor the progress of pregnant women in their respective locales. Ultimately, we are trying to not only mobilize women but also guide them to help ameliorate the maternal and child health in their villages.

The main discouraging event that has happened this month was probably my moto accident. No I was not driving the moto. The moto driver’s moto fell apart and some contraption of the moto became stuck in the wheel thus causing us to topple over. This was about the fourth moto problem he had had along the route. Moto problem Number 3 which led up to the accident, occurred when we were stuck in the middle of a cow field where I thought I would have to spend the night, dozens of km away from even a hut. Thank goodness we were not on concrete. Thank goodness I was wearing my helmet. Thank you PC for imbedding in us the importance of helmet wearing! Although I’m quite sore and scratched up from the fall, as was the moto driver, we came out of the wreck alive. Alahumdulilay. I’m just ready to get back to cars and paved roads in the states.

Well that’s a summation of some of the cultural and work under goings I have been up to. Hope this finds everyone well! Happy Autumn to everyone back home in the US!

Peace, Ali

On June 27th Tourningal officially inaugurated its Community and Women’s Center. After many months of arduous work and cumbersome planning, I’m frankly relieved the pomp and circumstance is over. In the words of one of my counterparts, “this will be the biggest ceremony that Tourningal has ever hosted.” I’m not sure if that was true; however, it was a gallant affair. The ceremony was held to thank us Americans for our collaboration and help to the community. Everyone is deeply grateful for the donations that Americans made to the community. Some notes on the ceremony:

-Was attended by hundreds of villagers and 5 PC volunteers.

--My Peace Corps Director assisted the ceremony to show PC support. His presence was greatly appreciated by the community. He came via the treacherous 17 hr. train.

-Over 60 women bought matching fabric to show solidarity.

-The community brought together over 1,000 USD to buy food for the ceremony. -Women from surrounding communities that I work with came; which was very exciting for me to see. The fact that the women left their houses and husbands to come dozens of kilometers away is quite a feat in this culture.

-It was supposedly the first ceremony ever in the community that women and men assisted and were able to sit next to each other especially in the presence of elites.

-A large soccer match was organized to commemorate the Jersey’s that Milwaukee University donated after the ceremony.

Of course like any event, there were vicissitudes. It rained after an hour, and there were scrambles for the food. In other words, mass disorganization. Putting hundreds of dollars of varieties of food in front of Africans that rarely mix of their diets, and not having properly planned who would serve the food, is a recipe for disaster. Many Men were very avaricious putting loads of food on their plates when other women didn’t get served. C’est la vie. All is well that ends well.

With that said, Let’s just hope the Community and Women’s Center comes to fruition and is properly managed, taken care of and, most significantly, used. If not, the project will have been a failure.

Hope this finds everyone well. Happy July. Less than a month and I’ll be home Enshallah. Health and Happiness to all, Ali

Combine 35 rambunctious teenagers, 5 Peace Corps Volunteers, limited resources and many, many (mostly appropriate) health questions, and you get Camp NJAMU JAM 2009! In Other words, Ali’s health camp extravaganza number II. I’m just glad it’s over. I am very gleeful that: 1.no one got hurt 2. No one went hungry 3. Only 2 of 35 kids didn’t finish due to misbehavior 4. I was able to convince 5 of my PC friends to come help me. If they wouldn’t of come to the camp it would have been more hectic and less fun for me.

If I could find some job in the future where I have as entertained and feel like what I was doing was as worthwhile as running a health camp for teens, I may try. (Note: I’m sure if I would have written this blog immediately after a 9 hour camp day, probably wouldn’t be as optimistic). I couldn’t have asked for a more manageable, disciplined group of 35 teens. The camp was a diverse hodgepodge of health topics, sports, team building activities, and art. The health topics included; nutrition, water importance, Malaria, gender roles, male/female relationships, HIV/AIDS, money management, school importance, and sexual health. The sexual health topic always provokes questions or embarrassment by the kids. In a culture where sexual decisions are generally 100% made by the males, just getting an open dialogue about importance of pleasing your wife and letting her make family planning decisions was intriguing; i.e. not forcing her to do anything against her will.

We did small and large group discussions, many, many long-winded and confusing sketches were performed, art contests were held, and some of my Cameroonian counterparts came to talk about health odds and ends. I tried to incorporate American learning techniques; i.e. anything other than rote memorization and very, very strict disciplinarian tactics, (Cameroonian styles) during the camp. Most of the kids have never gotten opportunities to be creative and draw, play sports between guys and girls, and do fun games. Teaching “Simon Says” to 19 year olds was a memorable experience. It went over well.

The apex of the camp was the Celebratory Ceremony on the last day. Not only was it held in the new, American funded Community and Women’s Center, but the turn out to watch the kids was fantastic. The room was full of Men; nearly 70 came to watch the hurrah, most did not know French. (I’m working on Women’s Involvement in the community…slowly but surely the women will come to community events). What was touching was the fact that the men came to watch their kids perform skits and dialogues that ridiculed their traditional cultural practices and tried to show the benefits of new behavioral and lifestyle changes. For instance, the kids showed their 70 year old fathers, many who have nearly 20 children themselves, the importance of family planning. It made me smile. They also showed the benefits of saving money. In Tournignal many people save money by “hiding” it under their pillows or mattresses. In this certain skit, a kid peed on his mother’s mattress and the mother then threw out the mattress, not knowing there was money underneath that was previously hidden by the father of the household. It got a laugh from the audience.

Granted the camp gives the children an outlet to express themselves and show off their versatile talents, whether it is sports or theater. However, to know that these kids do not have any other opportunities to practice these talents outside of my camp is hard. Whereas in America oftentimes kids with talents or interests can pursue them in extracurricular settings, in a small African village, no other venues exist. I guess something is better than nothing.

Besides the end ofcamp, I’m getting ready for an American friend to come visit me in Cameroon and for the large, much anticipated, official Opening of the Community Center. Villagers have brought together over 200,000 CFA or 400 dollars to help pay for the festivities--a large amount. An El Haji in village is donating a cow, worth nearly 1,000 dollars. All in all, it should be a gallant affair; but quite stressful for me, knowing that the huge fanfare of the fete is to show us, Americans their thanks. I just hope they do not overdue themselves. Any Americans who may find themselves in the vicinities of Tourningal on June 27th are more than welcome to attend the opening. The more the merrier.

Summer is now upon the US. I hope everyone who is reading this has relaxing, fun-filled summer plans. I know I am anticipating my older sister’s wedding in August and wish I could be around for more of the preparation. I am just trying to keep myself ensconced in work and my friends in Cameroon, otherwise it would definitely be hard to get through these next few months. Much love and Peace, Ali

You know you have been in Cameroon too long when you start to not want to leave your 1,000 person “fish-bowl” of an isolated village, because you are too fed up with the roads and simply want to make it out alive for the next 7 months you have remaining. That’s me. There are two memorable voyages thus far this rainy season. First, my car flipping over when the driver fell asleep on the dangerous Adamoua roads and fearing being stuck in brousse (thank God no one was hurt, miraculously). Second, going a speedy 15 miles an hour during a thunder storm and making it back to my village, from where the mayor of the area is posted, an efficient 5 hours after the departure….

Sometimes it’s just not worth it to travel, or leave your post to go work in needy villages. But luckily due to the sub-par roads with the start of the rainy season, I have been busy in post. Notably the community center is now finished! A grand MERCI BEAUCOUP to everyone who helped me out with the project. Daily villagers thank me. It is officially the prettiest building between Ngaoundere (the capitol of the province) and Belel (where the mayor is) 120 km. away. The building is graced in my favorite color, green. Preparations are already in gear for the mega Opening Ceremony in late June. Women’s groups are already meeting in the space and future seminars; cultural and relating to health, have reserved the space in months to come. I’m just glad the building is over. I can proudly say that I know the price of every tidbit of a material that goes into a Cameroonian construction project and my construction French lingo has skyrocketed. I vetoed the some of the villagers plans: to put a picture of me forever in the building and to name the building “the cradle (berceau) of the community,” deciding that was a bit too formal.

In addition to the community center, I am in the planning stages of Camp Njamu Jam part II; in other words, my makeshift health/living skills/sports camp. This year should be better, for I will of hopefully learned from the mistakes of last year. However, the empathy in me, could not decline the participation of certain kids, for I knew this may be their last opportunity to attend; so, this year will have nearly 40 kids under my guidance and patrol compared to last years 30. (Sure, some of the kids may of just wanted the T-shirt, but at least they wrote really good applications and seem genuine). I may have an anxiety attack during the week, but will make sure to increase my yoga-pilates regime during the camp to deal with the stress. I also choose 5 kids as leaders or counselors and prior to the camp will do in-depth training so they can learn the ins and outs of the activities and perhaps do a similar event sans moi. To meet and train with a dynamic, excited, energetic, hard-working group of young adults is an awesome feeling. Let’s all hope Camp Njamu Jam Part II goes well.

Another work related activity up my sleeve for the next few months is soy animations and information sessions—year number two. Since malnutrition is a severe problem and protein is scarce, trying to inculcate the importance of this little bean.

Well, that’s about it work wise. Cameroon’s 4th of July, or May 20th just passed. Watching school after school of kids marching in their desynchronized fashion is always a joy, or a laugh. Hope this finds everyone in a healthy and healthy state, preparing for the playful, sunny time that is America’s summer.

Much peace,

Ali

Sannu himbe pat (or hello everybody!) I hope this finds you all healthy and in good spirits! It has been a while, mainly due to being at post and traveling. Similar to in the states, “spring” or the rainy season here is upon us; meaning: hours on end every day rain falls. Within 2 days the dry, torrid landscape became green, the cows became fatter, the roads became more dangerous and women started flocking to the fields to start preparing for the growing season! I also have started baking (not good idea) to pass the rainy time away…they do not have baked goods in village, so my poor baking skills are a hit.It’s amazing how fast seasonal changes go here…2 days and it’s a 180!

Village has its vicissitudes as always. The downs lately have been caused by a plethora of deaths. I have known more people die here in village than my 24 years of existence. About every week or so I hear of another person I know pass away. What is quite disheartening is that a large percentage of these deaths are preventable; i.e. AIDS, typhoid fever or moto accidents. I have so much inner guilt to know that people are dieing by preventable sicknesses, sicknesses that would be attempted to be treated or calmed in the states. I have to remind myself that even in the US there are millions of people that do not receive proper healthcare and that die of preventable illnesses. Funeral ceremonies here are a totally unfamiliar experience. They consist of women and men sitting in separate obscure, windowless rooms. The women especially take part in “crying ceremonies.” It is said that one does not show empathy with a deceased family member if one does not openly cry or wail in front of them. I live in a village of 1,000 people. The family and friend network is intense,nearly everone knows everyone else in village. Thus one can imagine the endless stream of visitors one receives. It goes on for days. So a deceased person close family must sit in a darkened room for nearly a week and greet or cry to everyperson that comes. From an outsiders perspective, this cultural aspect seems monotonous and long-winded. However, it also shows how deep the community is.

Besides this rather dismal subject, my village life has been replete with the continuation of the community center project and various other ordeals. The community center is going well; despite a dearth of ciment in the main town for 3 weeks. I continuously feel so grateful to have had so many generous donators in the states that helped me out with this project. Thank you so much. If only I could easily transcribe how grateful and warm the community is--how much this project means to them. For example, everyday I get countless words of Appreciation. The woman’s group is already having meetings in the half finished building! I cannot wait till it’s finished. I already have a Maternal and Child Health Seminar planned that will take place in the space. The community is already planning to use the space for a large cultural seminar in July. Various women and young adults have already expressed huge interest to do sewing workshops. So, now we’re just waiting.

Outside of the confined bubble of my village, I have made an effort to get out and see other parts of “Africa in Miniature” or Cameroon. A few weeks ago, some friends and I took a trip up to the Extreme North of the country. Up north, there are no rivers or little flora. There are no hills. There is sand, flatness, wind storms and dried earth. One of the highlights of the trip was going to Rhoumsiki; which lies on the border of Nigeria. In Rhoumsiki, one of the most popular tourist destinations lays a “lunar landscape” or jutting, sharp rock formations. It’s quite picturesque. We also spent a day in Waza, the most famous National Park in Cameroon. It was a disappointment. Sure we saw a lot of giraffes, gazelles, birds, and wart hogs; but, the “big honchos” or elephants and lions were no wear in sight. I think I have to wait until East Africa. The safari consisted of riding around on pot-ridden, rocky roads in the blaring, 100+degree sunlight for 7 hours. After that I was ready to get back to my mountainous, tree laden, cooler climate region. I guess I’m just now partial to my post and to my region; which is probably a good sign!

OK, that’s a summation of my life these past few weeks. Easter came and went. No one celebrated it. Once again, I hope this finds whoever may be reading it, in good health and spirits. Eat some good baked goods (because mine do not suffice) and Peanut Butter (I’m out) for me!

Allah hokku en jam—May Peace Be With You

Ali

Taking the GRE and Climbing Mt. Cameroon were two polar-opposite experiences that took place within 2 days of one another. One experience was miserable, comical, but not fun. One was exhilirating and once-in-a-liftime. First--the not-fun experience. I'll admit, Taking the GRE in America isn't too memorable. However, taking the GRE in the Cameroonian context, makes it an adventure. For starters, just filling out the bubble letters took my fellow test-takers an hour. After that hour, my bladder was about to burst. Meanwhile, the proctor was mumbling criticisms about the "incompetent Cameroonians," (in her words) in front of them. Scrap paper, supposedly a GRE right, was not offered, nor were any breaks. Cheating and cell phones going off, were rampant. Consequently, several test-takers were thrown out of the test, mid-exam. Studying for the GRE in my bucolic, quiescent village was somewhat of a paradox. That is, studying for an exam that will drive me full fledged into the American anxiety-ridden, highway of success; while I'm surrounded by my not formally-educated villagers whose lives have not changed for hundreds of years and are "stuck" in their lives, immobile in time. I felt odd reviewing formulas and revisitng vocabulary, as I looked out my window to kids, who do not have the chance to go to school, adorned with no clothes or sporting evidences of malnutrition.

Yet, to every low-point in life, or rough patch, comes an apex. Minutes after finishing the GRE I was rushed onto a 7 hour bus to climb Mt. Cameroon. It was a memorable, fantastic experience that I recommend to anyone who is mildly in shape and who enjoys camping or hiking. Mt. Cameroon is the highest Mountain in all of West and Central Africa,measuring approximately 14,000 ft. My friends and I decided to do the 3 day hike which took us through Rainforest, Savanna, ridges of active volcanoes, lava flow fields, cold/tundra like environement,verdant "Irelandesque" fields, and lunar landscape. The range of temperature was probably 40 to 90 degrees on the trip. On the summit I felt like I was going to be blown off. It was phenomenal to experience all of this bio-diversity at 13,000 feet. Above the clouds and tree-line, I felt like I could of been anywhere; America, Europe or Asia. It's wonderful how equalizing a force nature is on humanity; how above the clouds, one tends not to worry about everyday matters, traffic, food, news, electricity, cell phone reception etc. I think that this hike, if more publicized and marketed would attract many more tourists, Yet, inevitably with more tourists would come more negative outcomes of human impact, that would surely destroy the pristine landscape. Who knows.

Any way, back to post tomorrow. Back to my diverse roles as; librarian, sewing and english teacher, construction site inspector, "doctor," women's group consultant, and village babysitter. Hope all is well in the States! Much happiness and peace, Ali