Tomorrow on March 1st, Peace Corps will celebrate its 50th anniversary. What a milestone! There have been a flurry of activities to share experiences. It's really incredible when you hear stories of the men and women that served in the early 1960's.

Peace Corps Cameroon has had its own share of activities. One of the RPCVs created an email list to reconnect volunteers who may not be as up with the technology. In just a few days, there are over 200 volunteers who share their PC experience in Cameroon, and that number is still growing. I love being a part of the Peace Corps family!

I've been back for 7 months now. The more I try to move on to the new phase of my life, the more I find myself wanting to hold on to my service and share the experience with others. I think it takes being back to really cherish those two years. Everyday, I appreciate that time of my life a little more. So, in honor of this big milestone, I have created a short 5-minute video to sum up my experience. It's much shorter than the previous one that I posted. That one was much more personal, but this one highlights on the experience.

I hope you enjoy the video, and for those who aren't aware, I've continued to chronicle bits of my post-PC life at my new site, Asian Polyglot. Feel free to stop by!

I've been home only just a little over a week, and already, that life in Cameroon seems like a very long dream. It's surreal. The reverse culture shock has been interesting, but I am adapting quickly into the American way of life, albeit for a short period before I jet off to London for graduate school.

During my last week in village, I created a photo slide show in an attempt to capture various aspects of my life in Cameroon. 780 days of wonderful memories condensed into a short video. I put photos into chronological order and outfitted with music that remind me of various periods. I haven't watched the video since I made it several weeks ago, and last night, I watched it again for the first time, and couldn't be happier that I had spent the time to create this small piece of memento. Perhaps this means more to my friends who were there with me throughout the events, but for what it's worth this is what life was for me as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I didn't create it to be any sort of promotional material, this is for me to remember that moment in time when I lived in Cameroon.

Cameroun, tu me manque trop déjà !

In less than 3 hours, I'll be on my way to the airport and begin the long journey back to the U.S.A.! This is the moment that I've waited for for two years, and as strange and sureal as it is, I am ready to begin the next chapter of my life!

This last week was wonderful. I spent it in Yaounde with the last group of the 2008-2010 SED/ED volunteers. As it stands, Laura and I are the last two still hanging around in the transit house. Last night, we said a big batch of goodbyes. The end of one's Peace Corps service is one of the strangest moments in life. It's incredibly difficult to describe, but I was glad to have 8 other wonderful loves here to experience the end of this journey.

David described our group as "never has there been a group of individuals assembled who has such insatiable appetite for enjoying themselves" during our final ceremony. And how right he was. We like to think of this group as a "work hard, party hard" group. Our APCD graciously said something nice about each one of us during this ceremony - the work we did in the community, the kind of volunteer we were, etc. All of us managed to do a good amount of work but also had a lot of fun! We later were presented with an amazing pin that we've all been waiting for: a pin that has the U.S. & Cameroonian flags and the Peace Corps logo.

Naturally, this week, we indulged in the finer things and frequented the fancy establishements in Yaounde to celebrate the end of our service. The indulgence included Happy Hour at the Hilton, lovely dinner at a fancy French restaurant, a visit to the artisanat market for last minute souvenirs, many many dance parties at the PC transit house and a big celebration for Ehab's birthday! This week happened to also be mid-service week for the volunteers who came a year after us, and we were able to celebrate this ending with some great people. Time spent with Americans during this last week has helped me get into the correct mindset for returning. Two years since I've been on the American soil. I think I'm in for a shock!

I'm scared, excited, sad, nervous and all sorts of other emotions. For the coming weeks and even months, I will likely have crazy anedotes on my readjusment to the US and the "real world" in general. This experience will quickly fade into a dream, but I'm glad this blog was here to capture moments of this dream. Thank you all for following my service these past two years. I will continue to document future adventures on Asian Polyglot and I welcome you to continue sharing your ideas and provide encouragement!

For now, I say: au revoir Cameroun! Hello U.S.A.!

I woke up after a restful sleep around 8am, without an alarm, of course, and put on my running shoes for one last jog down my favorite path. The crisp air made for a comfortable jog. I took noticed of each house that I ran by and took in each rolling hill that I passed. I will unlikely to have a regular running path this beautiful for years to come. I waved at villagers along the way that I often see; likely the last time I would see those faces again.

Returned home and heated water in the small marmite for one final bucket bath in my latrine. I remember my very first bucket bath - in the same latrine, during site visit two years ago. Back then, I found it to be a treat but slightly awkward. But now, I am so at ease with this process; it had became a basic routine.

Billy, my neighbor boy, came by the house and hung out with me like he always does. But there was a hint of sadness. He helped me wash floors for the last time and counted the money he had earned and saved in his jar. "if it wasn't for you, this money would've been long gone," he said. He had learn the value of saving; that was my small contribution to his life.

I took down the mosquito net and pictures on the wall in my bedroom. Still felt like any other day, but today is the last day.

Headed into town to drop off some things my friend had bought from me, then stopped by the omelet shack for a sandwich. One littler girl was going on about the different patois that she speaks because her parents are from two different towns. She spoke in an adult manner and it made us laughed. I stopped by the phone credit lady to get some MTN credit for my phone before hopping on a moto to come home.

Billy came by again soon after I got home and we hung out more. He kept asking me what I was doing with different things that I am leaving behind, and I got slightly annoyed. He's still a kid after all. I gave him some cookies and he was happy. Liz came by in the afternoon to pick up my fridge with Emmanuel, my moto guy. We chatted. Eman tied the fridge on the back of his moto the way he used to tie my gas bottle. I told Eman to come back and pick me up after dropping Liz off in Baham.

Around 5pm, we went into town. I waved at kids at the water pump as I do every time I go by. I visited all the usual boutiques that I always visit, but this time, it was to say goodbye. An incredibly strange feeling. People you see everyday, and suddenly, I won't see them for a long long time, or ever. The goodbyes were strange, but weren't particularly sad, until I got to my bar with mama Chantal and my friends were there for one final drink.

I ordered one last poisson braisée with baton de manioc and drank a coke - a typical dinner that I've had numerous times. This was the last. My friends gathered and said great things about me and hope for wonderful things for my future. We made sure to exchange contact information one last time. As people started to leave, I could no longer pull myself together and was a teary mess. Mama Chantal put her arm around me and said to not cry, it's just parting, no one died. But to me, it feels that a part of me is being cut off. Everyone comforted me and said that I go back to school, and in the future, I'll come back. Of course I think that as well, but we all know that life isn't always that straight forward. Despite all my good intention to return, there is no guarantee.

Tomorrow, I will make the trip to Bafoussam as I've done many many times. Except this time, it's for good. Batié has became my home. Each time that I travel, I am comforted to know that this is the place I can come home to. After each trip, despite of the length of the journey, I am always relieved to be on that moto ride from the carrefour to my house. But tomorrow, this home base will be there no more, and my life as a globetrotter continues.

Tomorrow is my last full day in village. I am nervous and am not sure that I am ready to leave. Though I am realizing that perhaps one is never ready to leave a situation as this. I just simply gotta "pull the band-aid off" so to speak. So many emotions. It has been a wild ride. Try as I may, words are simply insufficient in describing how I feel. Last week, I hosted several volunteers who came through on site visit, one of them was my replacement. Showing them around made me see even more clearly the beauty of my village and life here in general.

I've been waiting to meet my replacement and show her around throughout the better part of my service. So much so that when the idea of canceling site visit for trainees was proposed at our Steering Committee meeting, I fought hard to keep it. I still so vividly remember my own site visit from two years ago and how helpful it was to get into the right mindset for the remaining time in training and have something to look forward to. The biggest problem I see in the work of Peace Corps volunteer is continuity, and I see site visits as an important element for information exchange.

It was exciting to speak in person with the person who will take over my projects, and integrate into a community that I've grown to love so much. Cristina was full of energy and I was excited to introduce her to everyone and show her the ropes. I didn't realize just how many people I know until Cristina was scribbling everything into a notepad, as to not forget. In answering all of her questions, I realized how much I've became an expert with life here in Cameroon. I left her a detailed post book full of tips. Everything from traveling, to shopping, getting water, bathing, using the latrine, finding help, where to buy certain things. All the basic things about life here needs an explanation. Nothing is simple and obvious. There is no one stop shopping and no directory of services. Other volunteers are your directory.

Besides the everyday stuff, I took Cristina to meet many of the work contacts that I've established over these past two years. Who you know always help facilitate things no matter where you are, but here in Cameroon, the difference can be night and day. We met with the mayor and he even took us to lunch. Cristina wanted a social media tutorial from me, so I gave her a quick lesson on blogging and twitter. Hopefully through these different mediums, I'll be able to see the progress of this community.

Even within the past two years, big improvements have already occurred, mostly thanks to the wonderful mayor. I didn't realized this until I was pointing out different things for Cristina. Things that exist now in Batié but didn't exist when I got here: a cyber café, more power lines in farther out neighborhoods, new cobbler at the carrefour, more stable power supply, better MTN réseau - I now can talk on the phone in the comfort of my own bed and not have to run outside every time the phone rings. All the buildings got a fresh coat of paint this past year. There are now 3 places to make photocopies instead of one. Few more tailors have set up shot and also a new coiffeur at the small carrefour by my house.

Slowly, but surely. As they say in French "petite à petite" or in Pidgin, "small small catch monkey".

The great thing about having to uproot your life every few years is that you take things for granted less, and the departure always make you take notice on insignificant details of daily life. The other day, my fellow PCVs were discussing how we wish we can record the sounds of this country. Here are some of mine:

• the neighbor's chickens that come to my back yard to eat scrap food

• old clunky cars and busses that struggle to make it up the hill

• the RFI (Radio France International) sound bite that announces time

• sound of Batié, pidgin, and Cameroonian English

• merchants yelling prices of different things in the market (cent-cent franc! deux-deux cent!)

• rain falling on my tin roof

• Nigerian music, specifically P-Square

• Cameroonian music of any kind

• Cameroonian sayings from Cameroonians: Ouais! tsk tsk. je dis que, tu m'as gardé quoi? patience, ma fille, etc.

• ringing tone from MTN when you call someone

• the general chaos that occur when many Cameroonians are in the same area

• sound of kids saying "bonjour, madame Wendy"

In other random reporting of things I will miss about Cameroon: bar shopping. In case you were wondering what are these big yellow slippers, they are my most prized bar shopping purchase. One Saturday afternoon, while sitting at our bar in Bafoussam, a guy walked buy with several pairs of shoes as they do. Those big yellow duck feet stood out and I immediately thought, "omg those are too funny, I must have them!" It all began as a joke, but now, I think these may come home to the US with me and become the mascot of my service!

Few weeks ago, Antoine, a driver for the Peace Corps who happens to be the chief of my quartier threw me a going-away party at his house. True to Cameroonian form, I was unaware of the time and whether I was suppose to invite people myself until the day before the event. I was running all around town on that Friday prior, contacting all my friends and people whom I've worked with and informing them to come for my send off "tomorrow at 2pm". I received a lot of, "that's kind of a late notice, but I'll do my best". Usually, when you hear that in the US, that means, "um yeah, I won't be there". Since there were also lots of funérailles happening and various events on the same day, I was expecting for a small gathering with some villagers, instead, I was faced with a FÊTE!

People trickled in slowly. While not on time, the party was well on its way an hour in - this is amazing for a Cameroonian event. I think my friends have all been well-conditioned to my on-timeness. Those 100 CFA fine for tardiness is paying off!

The mayor and his secretary general presented me with three traditional kabbas. Antoine's family prepared a huge feast. My landlord showered the event with champagne. I was symbolically presented with a set of twins in hope that I will have lots of kids and return for a visit in the future. Friends came in from Yaoundé just for the party. People sang my praises for FIVE hours. If it wasn't for the sporadic jokes about me staying and never going back in between, I don't know how I would have held it together. All of my close friends from the village made it despite the crazy events that were occurring simultaneously that day in village.

I was really touched by the speeches that people gave. They made me realize that people do notice the work that I had done and are incredibly appreciative of it. The positive energy gave me hope again in development work and reassured my decision to pursue graduate studies in international development.

Later in the week, I was in Bafoussam and ran into one of my previous business students that no longer lives in village. I told him about my departure, and few days later, he phoned to tell me that he had left me a gift at the local bar. Today, I picked it up and it was a beautiful wood-carving hanging. As I was packing, gifts of appreciation from my time here filled my bag. They mean so much more to me than any souvenir that I could possibly purchase. I am going to miss this country despite its quirkiness, and there will always be a place in my heart for the village of Batié. I hope to do all that I can to pay a visit in 5 years and see how it has evolved.

I'm in the process of making a slide show with pictures from my two years in Cameroon. I realized I had never written about my trip to the Extreme North. While looking at these pictures, I was amazed at how surreal that trip now feels. It was nearly a year and a half ago, and the vast differences between the North and the South makes that voyage seems like a dream. Soon, Cameroon as a whole will feel like a dream. In some ways, this is one of the many side effects of globalisation. While it's now much easier to travel and have wild experiences, identity crisis becomes a more common issue among globetrotters.

Anyway, Juliette and I explored the Extreme North region of Cameroon, while cliché, it was an experience of a lifetime. We took Camrail, the one and only rail company run by the government, from Yaoundé to Ngoundéré. I was rather surprised by the comfort of the sleeping carts. Not much different than many of the euro rail. We were quite lucky that the train operation was going through some reform and it was running surprisingly on time. The 12-hour journey went by without much of a problem. Although from what I've heard, that luck is rare.

The train pulled into Ngoundere just before 7am and we bought a bus ticket heading to Maroua right there at the station. Julitte and I were both amazed at the efficient system that the people in the North have. Instead of buying the ticket and running onto the bus to hoard a sit and be hot for the next hour or two, or however long the wait may be. The Northerners actually buy a ticket, and sit in the waiting area. The ticket issuer holds all the ticket until the bus is full and then call the name out in order of purchase. It makes so much sense and makes the wait much nicer. I experienced this system being implemented in Yaoundé once, and it was a complete chaos.

8-hour bus ride later, we arrived at Maroua. A great muslim city that is so clean and no one déranges. No adults yelling at me only little kids calling out "nasara" (white man in fulfuldé). We visited the main market, a leather-producing place, and several artisan places.

Once rejuvenated in the city, we headed to Rumsiki - a pretty famous tourist attract north of Maroua. The only way to get to this village is by taking a two-hour moto ride. I love taking motos, so was excited by this prospect. That ride, I kid you not, made me feel like I was in one of those National Geographic films. Once arrived to village, we decided to go on a hike. One elderly man from our hotel offered to take us as a guide. Juliette turned to me and said, "this old guy wants to take us on a 4-hour hike?" Well, the joke was on us. We walked down the giant valley and then climbed back. I was in my hiking shoes and felt as if I was DYING. This old dude was walking around in his flip flop - no water, nothing.

After the hike and a nice shower, our guide took us to see the crab sorcerer - a traditional fortune teller. According to this crab sorcerer, he told me that I will have 4 children, and marry a rich man that my mother would not approve of. My husband supposedly will want me to have babies all day but I will put my foot down at 4. I paid 1,000 CFA ($2) for this information. We shall return to this in the future to verify its validity.

Our next destination was Maga & Pouce. These two small villages were pretty off the beaten paths. When Ju & I arrived to Maga, we weren't even really sure that there would be a hotel/guesthouse. Luckily, there was one! The next day, we headed out on a pirogue, a motorized wooden canoe, for a 4-hour ride to see hippos! In retrospective, that was probably a really stupid idea. But it was AMAZING. We saw these huts in the middle of nowhere that people live in. Our guide told us those are likely lived by families of fishermen. We did eventually see hippos, but didn't get too close, for obvious reasons.

After being baked under the sun, we headed to the nearby village of Pouce for its market day. It was a huge market with people from all the surrounding villages. We saw many of the Bororo people who are the nomads in this region of Africa. People rode donkeys. The culture was so immensely different from anything I've ever experienced. I was touched.

Seeing pictures of these voyages remind me of why I am a traveler. I am, after all, a small, insignificant individual in this universe. Seeing other cultures and ways of life give the kind of perspective that I think many need in modern societies, especially those who are often surround by stress!

Earlier this evening, I was working on my post book for my replacement. This is a document filled with a wealth of information about my village and life in general in Cameroon - anything from the minor kinks of the house to where to buy grocery, my favorite bar lady, moto guy, etc. Life here isn't so obvious, and it has taken me two years to really get the hang of it. As I was compiling this document, I became really, really sad - tears falling sad.

I am 23 years old, turning 24 in a few months. By the time I leave Cameroon, I will have spent approximately 10% of my life here. That's not a small amount. These past two years were the longest time I have resided in one single place since high school. This wasn't just some adventure to a foreign land for a few months, this was my life, for two years.

The key element that makes this ending so much more difficult than the rest is that I likely won't be returning to this country for many many years. Most people in this village can barely operate a cell phone. Needless to say, I won't be emailing with them or skype-ing any time soon, or ever. The neighbor kids have been coming by everyday and asking how much longer I will be here. They have a sad look on their faces and it breaks my heart.

The sadness is two-fold. Besides my village, wonderful people have came into my life - other Peace Corps volunteers, French volunteers, my Chinese family that have so graciously welcomed me into their home. While keeping in touch with these people will be easier than villagers, when I leave Cameroon, this chapter of our friendship will also end. We will go on our separate ways, and life will never again be the same.

This morning, Emmanuel, my moto guy and I got trapped by the rain at the lycée. It reminded me of last year when the exact same thing happened. And like the last time, I also forgot a book (I never learn my lesson). We were trapped there for over an hour, but this time, I embraced it. This would likely be the last time I will ever be trapped somewhere and unable to leave due to rain.

My life has been changed in a deep and profound way from these two years. I see humanity differently, appreciate everyday for simply being alive, and thankful for the simple things in life. When things get rough in the future, I hope to always think back on this period of my life when I was happy when I get the chance to take a hot shower or even just having running water. The excitement and relief when power finally comes back on after a long outage.

Life is short. Time flies. May events in life continue to shake and change me as they did these past two years.

This year is the first time that an Africa nation has hosted the world cup. I am sure you are all well aware of the significance. Being in Cameroon, one of the 7 African countries that had advanced to the World Cup, is quite exciting. I have never watched so many World Cup games as I am right now. I'm sure the fact I don't have much on my schedule helps.

Unfortunately, Cameroon didn't do so hot and was eliminated from the tournament just after the second game. Nevertheless, the two games they did play, I watched them at bars with fellow volunteers and it was quite the event. Sure there are sports bars in the US, but there is something quite intoxicating about watching the games at semi outdoor bars on not so fancy televisions. People crowding around, sitting in plastic chairs or benches. When the game begins, the streets were completely quiet. Everyone stopped what they were doing and crowded around the nearest television to observe the game.

MTN is the the official sponsor of this year's world cup, and they happen to be my cell phone provider here in Cameroon. During the Cameroon - Denmark game, MTN had promotional activities in major cities where big projectors were set up in the streets, they gave out noise makers, wrist and head bends, etc. The pre-game festivity was much like any tailgate in the US, but the national unity and energy level was outstanding. Just few minutes into the game, Cameroon scored its first goal and the excitement was indescribable. You really just needed to be here. I've never seen anything quite like it!

Watching the U.S. games here is equally exciting. For the U.S.-England game, we brought the U.S. flag to the bar. Cameroonians were rooting for us. The ambiance is so incredible! Although, I have a feeling people won't be cheering for the U.S. during tomorrow night's game of U.S. vs. Ghana. After all, Africans have to unite and support the last remaining African remaining team in the World Cup.

The World Cup, more than other sporting events, seem to have this unifying effect for the world. That feeling of togetherness is so contagious. After all, as they say in Cameroon: On est ensemble! (We are together)!

Yesterday, a former student from my business class called and wanted to set up a meeting. I happily agreed, only to realize that he probably is trying to get me to do something. It's rare that people in this village are that motivated.

I was right. Him and another guy also from the business class wanted me to help them with a project. But by help, they mean, they want me to write their project proposal so they can get funding from the Italians, or some other European country.

Needless to say, I was annoyed. They took my business class months ago and during our 6-week long classes, they learned all the steps of writing a business plan and/or project proposal. Yet, they came to me with nothing written except for a few measly pages of information they scrambled together. They said, "we hired someone to help us but she's going on vacation. We thought we can sit down with you and do this." I said, "writing a project proposal isn't something you sit down and do within an hour. We had the course for 6 weeks for a reason." In the end. I told them I was sorry that I couldn't help them and explained that had already written a proposal, I could have given suggestions. But since nothing has been done, and my time is limited, that I was not able to offer help.

This, along with my library check ups this morning left me feel drained. Why do they think I am god and am here to solve all problems? Why do they never make any initiative and why do I feel like working with villagers in some ways is like babysitting? I gave them books. I gave them training on library management. Yet, unless there is a plan for someone to constantly go check up on them and bug them, then it's very likely that all will be for naut. I gave you the food and the spoon to eat it, do I really need to feed it to you, too?

Two years may feel like a long time for most of us in the fast-paced world. But here in a village of Cameroon, where everything takes F.O.R.E.V.E.R., two years is a very short time. It took me my entire service to get books here and to teach a few rounds of business classes. Despite our best efforts to drawn up follow-up plans and passing the projects to new volunteers, there is no guarantee that these Cameroonians will use the knowledge that were taught or resources given.

The problem, I think, is mentality. They look to foreigners as some sort of fix-all solution. Somehow, they think we have all the money, skills, and knowledge in the world to make their lives better. Kate once told a story that illustrates this. For two years, people always bugged her about teaching them how to use the computer and the Internet. Cameroonians who run cyber cafés could easily teach them, but they never think to ask them for help. In the same light, I attempted to train Cameroonians who can give the same business classes that I taught to others, but they tell me that people won't listen to them. The same information coming from a "white" person's mouth apparently is worth more. How will a country ever grow and develop if its people are constantly relying on "white" people and not themselves? Changing that mentality could be the key, but how to do that is the big question.

We Peace Corps Volunteers get very creative in our leisure activities and are very easily amused people. Few weeks ago, David and Jim decided to make sandwiches. That sounds like a pretty ordinary activity, n'est-ce pas? mais non, not in Peace Corps land. We didn't just make sandwiches, we replicated Noah's Ark.

What is Noah's Ark, the sandwich? Well, it's a sandwich filled with all kinds of meat that we can think of. Basically, the definition of over-indulgence and simple ridiculousness.

We took a BIG baguette - the 500cfa worth from Casino, the fancy supermarket in Yaoundé. We cut it up in three and took the end piece, hollowed out the middle and begin the stuffing. First, cover the edges with guacamole, then filled the sandwich with the following: sauté eggs, onion and sausage, french fries, onion rings, slices of turkey meat, a chicken sandwich from the Kaelly Hotel (next to the PC house) and the Peace Corps Burger from Chez Francesco (that's David's invention - triple cheeseburger), and slices of pizza. After all that, layer on slices of cheddar cheese, send it to the oven for a quick toast, and you have yourself a sandwich.

You place all these ingredients in different places so that every bite is a surprise. It's epic.

A sandwich inside of another sandwich

This is also what happens when you keep a bunch of twenty-something people with too much energy in a country where leisure activities are very limited. Just another one of many crazy and strange things we do here in the Peace Corps.

Bientôt, I'll be in Cameroon for two years. I've seen and experienced so much over the past two years that it now takes a lot for me to freak out about something - mice, bugs, obnoxiousness, strange animals being held on the road for sale - you name it, I've probably seen it. The one thing, however, that still gets my blood pressure up through the roof is traveling in Cameroon. The bush taxi and bus rides somehow still make me want to punch people in the faces. What are the problems exactly? On a recent trip home from Yaoundé, I decided to document this.

Overcrowding: In Cameroon, the number of passengers is always the suggested number plus 1. A row for 4 people, there will be 5. That's not too much of a problem until when you get two or three largely built Bamiléké mamas that are twice as big as me in there. On top of that, when the weather is hot, everyone is sweating on top of each other. Imagine the comfort.

State of Vehicle: Being crowded in a plush vehicle may not be so bad, but when the buses or cars have been mended in all the ways imaginable, and the seats are paper thin, the metal bars are digging into whatever body part is now twisted to be in contact, having that one extra person makes all the difference. I have to give it to the Cameroonian mechanics though, they make the most impossible cars run.

Window Closing: I don't live in a very hot region of Cameroon and the weather for the most part are pretty mild. However, there are still hot days and usually when there are more 8 people in a small car, the body heat increases the temperature. The same applies in all vehicles. The easiest way to resolve this problem is simply let the windows open in a moving vehicle. However, Cameroonians have some serious issue against opened windows. There have been times when a baby is dripping in sweat and the mother is wiping it off with cloth, yet the window is STILL closed. They tell me it's the dust. But that logic makes no sense on a paved road.

The Medicine Man: On bigger buses, there are also men who are medicine sellers that are giving their speech about the miracle drugs that they are selling. This can go on forever - hours upon hours. Think infomercial, but forced upon you while you are sitting in the aforementioned conditions. I learned my lesson the hard way by sitting in the front of the bus once. Now I always sit toward the back of the bus, and when the medicine man starts yapping, I turn up the iPod and do my best to ignore it.

The Waiting: This, above all else, is what drives me mad every time. When you need to be somewhere at a certain time, this aspect of Cameroonian travel is extremely frustrating. With the exception of a few bus companies, most of the time, the system is "first come first serve" and "we go when it's full". If I need a car to Bafoussam from my village, I simply wait by the side of the road until a taxi comes by. If I'm lucky, there could be a taxi there already, but I have waited up to an hour for a taxi to come by. The trip to Bafoussam only takes 45 minutes. Longer travel works the same, you get to the bus station whenever and it's all luck. The bus leaves when there are enough passenger to fill all the seats - filled in their definition, meaning when all the rows of 4 people are filled with 5 passengers each. Depending on the time of the day and the day of the week, this can take HOURS. I'd love to see a study on the amount of time an average Cameroonian spend just waiting. What a waste of productivity.

Important to always having reading materials to pass the waiting!

The Stopping: Taxis stop often to let people off and picking people up, that's understandable. But when it's a bus full of people, and when nearing destination, everyone wants to get off at a place more convenient for them, you have the situation of the bus stopping every 5 minutes. Or, people want to stop to buy food, go to the bathroom, etc. All of these stops add to the travel time.

Every time the bus stops, vendors crowd to the window

For two years, I've told myself that at least traveling here is cheap. Yes, I may have to put up with these conditions, but an one-way ticket to Yaoundé, that's a 5 hour trip, only costs $5. This has eased putting up with Cameroonian travel until a few weeks ago when I was planning summer travel in the US with my sister. I was booking bus tickets with MegaBus and realized that if you book well in advance, it's possible to have tickets for $1 - that's 500 CFA!

This fact blew my mind. Yes, there are certain stipulations to this fare and tickets get more expensive as the time gets closer. However, the fact that this option is available at all is incredible. The three bus tickets I booked for my East Coast travel this summer didn't exceed $5 each and that guarantees me a bus that leaves on time, a whole seat to myself in an air-conditioned bus that won't stop all the time, and get this - Wifi Internet connection on the bus!!! This is blowing my mind and I am an American, imagine letting a Cameroonian experience this. Wild.

It's been pretty quiet around here au village these days. With my projects mostly wrapped up and not enough time to really do much else, I am relishing in these last 81 days of freedom and embracing every bit of boredom that I may feel. Chances are, my life will not move at such a leisurely pace ever again until my retirement.

Today, I received a call from Sally, the lovely travel planner for Peace Corps, to confirm my flight home. This is real now. On July 24th, I will finally be back on American soil. Confirming the flight means this is real. I am finally going to leave Cameroon. That song lyric, "Leaving on the jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again." is going to become very real. My feelings are split between excitement and extreme freight.

81 days is still a little over two months, and I am filling my days with books, French magazines, a lot of TV Series (been on a serious West Wing kick), some movies, etc. Of course in between, I go out and hang out with my bar lady, neighborhood kids, and just passing time with people in village. Even so, my mind is pretty bored and I'm getting antsy. I've thus taken up learning Spanish and Russian and try to read some economics textbooks in an attempt to prep for grad school. However, that has made me realize that my attention span is very low now and I'm looking at a very grueling few months of adjustment in the fall...

Finding a way to preserve the present moments and striking a balance between the antsy feelings and looming sadness that accompanies with the upcoming departure is not easy, but I'm trying to stay grounded through the last 81 days, not rushing through the experience and taking it in for all its worth.

Laura: What are we going to do when it's not socially acceptable to drink a cold Castel on the beach at 10 in the morning?

I have been back in village for a week now after the whirlwind of COS conference, and I have never missed Americans this much in my entire life. My fortunate circumstances that have allowed me to live in different places also at times gives me severe identity crisis. The first 12 years of my life, I was a Taiwanese. No doubt about it. The 6 years that followed, I successfully transformed myself into an American. I did such a stellar job that in college, my Asian friends were surprised when they found out I spoke fluent Chinese and grew up in Taiwan. Talk about being bien intégré. For the past 6 years, however, I've traveled. I've utilized that integration skills to put myself in the life of an English, a Cameroonian, a French. I avoided hanging out with Americans too much to get the full experience. However, my time with my fellow volunteers last week made me realize that I am in fact, American, and I miss them.

After our conference in Yaoundé, a group of us took vacation and went to Kribi, one of the popular beach towns. One evening, we were out in a very chic pizzeria that is designed for expats. The restaurant had these really wide and comfortable chairs. Being the luxury starved volunteers that we are, a conversation went on for a good 10-15 minutes about how big and comfortable those chairs were. Then it occurred to us that once back in the States, people will look at us strangely if we ever went on a rant about how big chairs are.

Several times throughout the week, we went dancing in clubs and had a fantastic time when American music came on. That kind of bond and excitement won't exist Stateside when all the music played are, well, American. I will miss a group of 15 Americans going bunkers on the dance floor to Lady Gaga's Bad Romance while Cameroonians are trying to figure out what is going on with us.

Our bus ride back from Kribi was bizarrely hot. All of us were packed in a bus like sardines, which is normal, but the humidity was unusually high that all of us were literally sweating bullets. I did not know my body was capable of sweating this way. We would all sit in the most relaxed manner possible, and there would be sweat dripping down our bodies as if someone was spreading water on us. It was pretty disgusting. To make matters worse, Cameroonians hate having wind blowing on them during bus rides, so even though we are all dying of heat, they would try to close the windows. You throw in the crying babies, or loud mamas who break out in songs because they wanted, then you have yourself a fantastic ride. I decided in that moment in time, amidst all the sweat, that I will NEED people in my life who can understand this.

During our COS conference, we had a RPCV panel who talked to us about life after the Peace Corps. The recurring theme was that people will not really be interested in your experience. They won't care. I got a glimpse of that this summer while I traveled back to Taiwan. I carried a photo album with me to show people my life here, and with few exceptions, most people really just aren't that interested. I am terrified of going back to a place where no one can understand the intense two years that I've just experienced. But when I looked around my beloved friends who were on that hot bus, I felt more at ease. At least, they will.

Over the week, there were several conversations among us discussing our plans for the summer and trying to find a way to meet up. We then pointed out how we are so eager to see each other Stateside even though we have all just spend two years together. We came to the conclusion that we need to talk to each other about the big chairs that we will be sitting in, and freak out about other minute details of American life together. I will miss these amazing people who are likely to be lifelong friends. Nothing bonds you more than being tossed in a strange place together for two years.

After the successful distribution of books, I headed to Yaoundé for Close-of-Service (COS) conference with my fellow '08-'10 SED/ED volunteers. To celebrate having endured Cameroon for nearly two years, Peace Corps put us up in a nice hotel in Yaoundé. While one of the nicest hotels in Cameroon, in comparison to the US standard, Mont Fébé is nothing but a high-end Holiday Inn. However, for us luxury-starved volunteers, any lodging equipped with hot shower, air-conditioning, swimming pool and food that includes chicken is five-star rating!

Our first night, we were invited to the Country Director's house for dinner. LaHoma is our newly-arrived country director who is incredibly smart and full of energy. I can already tell that Peace Corps Cameroon will go places under her leadership. The first night after we arrived to Cameroon as a group, we also were invited to the previous Country Director's house for dinner. That was back in June, 2008. Two years later, we are so much more comfortable with each other and it felt like a big family dinner. Also, as a group, this might have been the most clean we have all been. The girls all took the occasion to put on nice dresses, did our make up and hair. Boys were looking sharp, some even put on a suit! The whole process felt a bit like prom!

The week was filled with paperwork and explanation of the process to end our service. I received the COS date of July 23rd. It's later than I had hoped, but so many people were trying to Early COS that I simply didn't want to hassle to fight for an earlier date. Besides, I am not sure if I am really ready to leave any earlier. I have moved around the world a great deal, but this is the first time that I am truly sad about leaving a place. Likely because the chance of me ever returning is slim.

One of the events for the week included a trip to the US Embassy. Now, I worked at the US Embassy in London, and the Embassy in Yaoundé totally kicks London's butt. It is HUGE. I suppose land in Yaoundé is slightly cheaper than that of London. I was also extremely impressed with the selection of American food. We all gorged ourselves on burgers, chicken salad sandwich, tostata, meatball, philly cheese steak, etc. After the delicious meal, we had several talks from RPCVs about career option. One of them talked a great deal about a career in the Foreign Service, which piqued my interest a bit. Something I'll think about, but I'm not jumping up and down about that career just yet.

Oh, funny side note. The toilets in the Embassy had automatic flush, and it scared the crap out of me - not literally though. But seriously, I was amazed that there was even a clean toilet, and now one that flushes by itself?! Also, people pointed out those fancy shades on the big windows. Two kind of shades that you pull on depending on how much light you want in. WHAT? Most of us just have fabric nailed over our windows for curtains. If you are really lazy like me, you just let the sun shine as it pleases.

Anyway, the week was wonderful and it was so good to be with all of my PC friends who have become my family here over the past two years. Siobhan once described the relationship between Peace Corps volunteers as second cousins. We may not all know each other, but if we are traveling and need somewhere to stay, it's safe to say that there is another PCV who will lodge us and feed us. PCVs are second cousins to one another, but those who are in the same stage (training group) have status of first cousin or even immediate family. As I sat during the conference and looked at the faces around me, I was comforted to know that after this experience, I am just one video chat or a phone call away from one of my loves to reminiscent on details of life here.

PS - Lady Gaga's Bad Romance somehow turned into the theme song for our COS week. Also, we watched Trace TV around the clock and now I am playing Trace's top 15 on repeat! I am already having severe nostalgia over the week.

After weeks of banging my head against a wall, cursing at inefficiency, and later moving 23,000 books around, we were able to see the appetizer portion of the fruits of our labor on Friday, March 19th when a small ceremony of book distribution took place in Bafoussam.

The Books For Cameroon team - Kate, Siobhan, Connie, Laura and myself - was present at once finally. Prior to this, we've been working largely through email or meeting separately. It was great to have all of us in one space and witnessing the books going out to recipients.

The ceremony took place at the conference hall in the governor's office building. Over 100 people were present - principals of schools, community leaders, traditional chiefs, journalists, government officials, etc. I was pleased with the turnout and was incredibly touched during the moment when everyone stood to sing the Cameroonian national anthem.

The event was short and sweet. I made a speech (in French!) on the project. Théo gave a speech on behalf of RIDEV. Peace Corps Staff who failed to inform us of the Embassy policy changed was also present and made a speech on behalf of Peace Corps. The Secretary-General made a speech on behalf of the Governor (after a million meetings, I still have no idea who this guy is). Representative from each establishment came forward and we ceremoniously gave them a book.

After the speeches, pictures were taken, food was served (can't have a ceremony without feeding people in the country!) and then finally, everyone made their way to the warehouse and books were distributed. I was incredibly impressed at this process; it was nearly flawless. Most schools and communities came with trucks to carry their books back. It was amazing to see principals and community leaders in suits carrying boxes of books on their head and loading them unto their trucks. Within two hours, we successfully distributed books for nearly all 35 establishments. I was extremely proud of Batié, where the mayor sent a dump truck to pick up ALL the books that were going to the village. The efficiency during this process was mind blowing compare to the ridiculousness we went through to get to that point.

The books are out, but the real work of following up with these libraries, training librarians and making sure these resources are putting to good use is just the beginning. I held a pre-training meeting a few days ago and today I made a tour of the 10 establishments around my village. I already see the obstacles with this part of work brewing. Development work is a process, and two years is only the beginning of it. As much as I hope that my replacement will continue with these follow-ups, there is no guarantee, and that, is truly unfortunate.

However, a good part of the books went to the Limbé City Library - a well established library in the anglophone region. Resource libraries are being established at RIDEV & RELUFA , so I know those books will go to good use. I suppose even only half of the 35 establishments end up function flawlessly, then our efforts aren't for nothing.

Finally, I wanted to give thanks to everyone who made this project possible. Kate has been my rock through this and carrying me through when I wanted to punch people in the faces, which was often. She is also the mastermind behind the library management training design that are taking place and most importantly, she kept me sane and conducted phone calls and made things work when I was on the verge of throwing in the towel. Today happens to be her birthday, and I want to just take this opportunity to acknowledge her amazing ways of putting up with me through this process!

Next, Théo, the incredible man who carries the hope in Cameroon, and also the guy that made it possible for our container to finally made its way out of customs. Théo's positive energy is what we all hope for in Cameroonians and there is nothing more encouraging to see people in this country taking measures to develop their own society. Bravo Théo!

Besides these two key figures, there are naturally a million people who were there for us in one way or another. (I feel like I am giving an Oscars acceptance speech right now) Thanks again for all who contributed to make the $11,500 fund raising possible, to MTN Foundation and Books For Africa for the financial support. Also thanks to volunteers who had came to help us sort books, those who had left us encouraging messages on our Facebook Page and much more.

The success of this project will take time to measure, but I am glad we are at this stage where we will be able to take such measurements!

PS-Apparently my interview with the journalists were aired on Canal 2 last night (twice!). Unfortunately, I don't have a TV at home to witness my 15 minutes of Cameroonian fame. Today, people in village talked about it, and they were proud of me. That was fun! :)

I've been dreading to write this post on the difficulties and pure ridiculousness that we went through for those 23,000 books to arrive. After the past two weeks, the only thing I want to do is rejoice in the success, not revisit the frustration. However, yesterday I came to the realization that my time in Cameroon remains only 3 precious months. I became nostalgic for these past two years and frankly, quite sad. I need to write about the obstacles in order for me to appreciate the efficiency that I will undoubtedly face in the "real world". It's human nature to reminiscent over an intense experience and think of only the peachy parts, yet the details of the trials and frustration is equally important and merits documentation.

In January, Books For Africa gave us an estimated arrival date of February 22nd.

The week of February 15th, I communicated with Peace Corps staff and he informed me he received a call that the container will arrive on the 26th. A week later, he informed me there is a slight delay on the paperwork.

March 2nd - informed by the Embassy that there's been a change in policy and they can no longer clear the container for us! Attempted to meet the governor but was told to come back.

March 3rd - received a call to go meet the govt the next day. Théo in Douala finding out information on private clearance.

March 4th - hauled ass to Bafoussam so I was on time for the 9am meeting. Ended up only meeting the Secretary General, and he told me we need a list of invitees ready and the speech for the governor written. Why couldn't he tell me this on the phone and save me a trip to Bafoussam?

March 5th - no progress, but Books For Africa found out about our problem via my blog post & came to the rescue for additional fees that incurred via private clearance. It pays to blog & complain!

March 6th - Théo worked out the company who will clear the container.

March 9th - in Bafoussam by 8am to transfer money with Théo and had many phone calls to find out how to get the container/books to Bafoussam. Met with the Chief of Cabinet for the governor's office to get the key to the warehouse. No key. Was told the guy is on his way and to come back the next day.

March 10th - problem at port. Need additional paperwork from Peace Corps. Théo happened to be in Yaoundé to meet with PC people and they worked things out with Embassy people in Douala to help us out.

March 11th - Container finally cleared through port. Still no key for the warehouse. Was told the truck would leave Douala this evening or the next morning with books.

March 12th - Arrived to the governor's office and found out no one knows where the key to the warehouse is. Books were suppose to arrive later that day. Chief of Cabinet finally called the guy who built the building and found out they key is STILL in Yaoundé! (It's important to note that we've been asking for this key since January and time and again they assure me there is no problem.) Builder in Yaoundé sends his brother with the key to Bafoussam. We met him in the late afternoon, and he told us after the building was built, he was in Bafoussam for 2 weeks trying to give the key to whomever responsible, and no one would take it. Meanwhile, truck in Douala didn't end up leaving until 3pm. We had to reschedule our team of help 3 times. Finally decided we will proceed early the next morning.

March 13th - 7am - we were waiting by the warehouse. Was informed that the truck is in Dschang - a city an hour away from Bafoussam. This would mean that by 8 or 9 am at the latest, the truck would arrive. No, 11 am - the truck finally arrives.

March 14th-19th - the team of volunteers working during most daylight hours to unpack 577 boxes of books, arranged them by level and subject, and repacked them according to establishments.

So, there you have it. The mishaps during this entire process could easily be avoided by some better planning and execution. Luckily or unluckily, none of these problems were within our control, which makes me, who has a bit of control-freak tendency when it comes to work stuff, wanted to scream, a lot. The phrase I hated hearing during this entire process was "ça va aller" (it'll be okay). Don't tell me that it will be okay, tell me HOW it will be okay. Now that this is all over, I've learned a lot and I am pretty sure no problem is impossible to handle.

I am exhausted. I haven't worked this hard since May 2008. After the ultimate obstacle course, which I will write about it at a later time, the 40-ft container of 23,000 books have arrived in Bafoussam on Saturday at 11am. Since then, the team of volunteers and I have been working almost around the clock during most daylight hours to sort through all these books. In total, we received 617 boxes of books. For the large majority, we had to take them out of the boxes and sort through them by subject and level.

I am so tired that I can't even rejoice in the fact that these books are all finally here. But I must say that it was an emotional moment when the 18-wheeler truck finally pulled up to the warehouse. At that moment in time, all the frustration of money-begging and Cameroonian logistics all became worthwhile.

For now, I must go sleep and attempt to write a speech in French for Friday's ceremony in between the book sorting. I am dreading this speech. Through this project, I realized I am not a fan of publicity. It's one thing to blog and twit, it's another to be interviewed and have to make a speech in front of people, in your 4th language no less. And there I thought writing a 5 minute speech for my public speaking class was a chore. Only if I knew...

Anyway, off I go. Thank you all for the support! And stay tuned for stories of the ultimate obstacle course we had to experienced to get to this point. Ciao!

The Indomitable Lions is the Cameroonian national football (or soccer) team, but the real national sport is drinking at a bar. There are more bars in Cameroon than any other type of enterprise. Even if you find yourself in the middle of nowhere with no food in sight, there will likely be a shack selling bottles of Castel, 33, or other Cameroonian favorites.

This national sport ties in conveniently to the celebration of any holiday here in Cameroon, no matter the occasion. Christmas? New Years? Bar. Youth Day? Bar. So it was no exception that this past Monday on International Women's Day, the celebration took place at? yes, bars.

As the name indicates, International Women's Day is suppose to be the day that honors women. Last year, I attended the parade where women were told to obey their husband. I figured, seen it once, seen it all. This year, being the bien intégrée volunteer that I am, I joined the majority of the women by skipping the parade altogether and headed straight for the party.

Mama Chantal! She smiles a lot more in person!

Mama Chantal, my favorite bar lady who also serves as my village mom invited me over for a homemade meal at her house. After filling our tummy with food, we headed for the bar. In theory, Women's Day is suppose to be full of activities that empower women. But in village reality, women get outfits made out of this year's Women's Day pagne and have a wicked good time into the wee hours. It's the few occasions that they can be free of their house duties and have a good time.

Bamiléké Mamas Sure Can Move

And good times we had! Dancing with these village mamas is definitely one of my favorite moments of Peace Corps. I will dearly miss these "holidays" in the future. The party went on well into the night, but unfortunately I had an early meeting in Bafoussam the following day, so I had to wrap up my share of party not long after the nightfall. Nonetheless, good times were had by all!

Just had to add in this pictureMama Chantal's Kids. SO cute!

In an attempt to remind myself why I started the psychotic library project, I decided to write about my visit to Fondonera from a few weeks ago.

Bernadette is the queen mother of the Fondonera clan. She found out about my project online and wrote to the Peace Corps. Her email was forwarded to me and we had been in contact since. She's a teacher and incredibly committed to the promotion of literacy and her community. She contacts me regularly to see the progress of the project. I was so touched by her enthusiasm and commitment, I decided to include her village in my project, even though there is no volunteer posted there. The village is still within the West region and thus manageable.

After months of communication, I finally had a chance to go visit her community. I was overwhelmed and touched by the generosity of people and how welcoming they were of me and Laura. We were invited to Bernadette's house for lunch, and then they gave us a tour of the community space they had prepared for the library. Later, her brother gave us a tour of the village. It was a Saturday, and a big funeral celebration was taking place. So we were invited to a few more gathers and had a few more meals.

The village is situated in a mountain, and there is no paved road to get to the village. With the funeral celebration, there were people everywhere and music playing from all corners up and down the mountain. For a moment, I felt like a character in Tarzan and that at any moment some strong Cameroonian man will start swinging between trees!

The hospitality was overwhelming. Laura and I were in a hurry to get back before dark, so we were getting rather impatient after the 3rd round of meet and eat. If I had more time, then I would have enjoyed the village more. The queen mother's brother said, "next time, you come here and we make a two-day program for you to discover Fondonera."

The culture of remote villages like this, and the loving people are why I started this psychotic library project. Someone has to deal with the bureaucracy and administration to bring books to remote places as such. Somebody's gotta do it, and it might as well be me.

Four days since I found out that the Embassy had changed its policy and can no longer clear our container. Théo from RIDEV was in Douala the next day after the news to meet with someone working at the Embassy to learn the process, and in attempt to find a solution. Yet somehow, four days later, no real progress was made.

Meanwhile, yesterday I received an email from a staff at Books For Africa. Apparently a board member who follows my blog forwarded my previous post about the frustration. They contacted me to see how everything was progressing. Within the hour, I received 6 emails from every person at Books For Africa who was working with my shipment, including a very encouraging email from the Executive Director who said they will do everything they can to facilitate us in this process. They immediately asked follow up questions to the situation, offered to write a letter of support on our behalf for the customs officials and change documentation if necessary.

American efficiency, how I've missed thee.

I am beyond frustrated, and as much as I've been trying to contain this frustration, I can no longer bite my tongue. This is not the first time that I've asked myself on what planet I find this project to be a good idea. Yes, it may benefit lots of kids, promote literacy, blah blah blah. But why didn't I just enjoy the quiet village life like most volunteers and simply do small projects?

As a Peace Corps Volunteer, we don't HAVE to do anything. We are volunteers after all. But when we do put forth the effort to implement a large-scale project, the support is minimal. The fund-raising process was frustrating as it was, but that was only the beginning of it. The Peace Corps staff who had agreed to help us in this process a year ago has yet contacted me with ways him or the Peace Corps could facilitate. Due to the lack of follow up on his part, I am now left with this ginormous mess in my hand and very little resource or information to resolve the problem.

If the Peace Corps wasn't going to provide the support that we volunteers need to carry out the project, then they should not have approved our project via the Peace Corps Partnership in the first place. Even if Peace Corps had told me they will play no part in the container clearing process from the beginning, then at least I would have had time to plan for private clearance. But now, we are in the worst situation possible, and I want to scream. Nothing worse than someone offering help but do not follow through. I know it's not their fault that the Embassy changed policies, but someone could have found out the change much earlier and informed us.

This is a blog on life as a Peace Corps volunteer, and this is a part of the tribulation that we face. My advice for future volunteers: think carefully before you jump into an ambitious project.

I am holding onto what little bit of faith I have left in me and believing that somehow everything will work out. How? I am not sure. But I don't have a choice, it has to work out. Hoping karma will reward us for the efforts that we have put forth thus far. Hope, that's all I have left, unfortunately.

As a way to battle with all the Cameroonian frustration that I've had to dealt with, I've taken up retail therapy once again. The markets in Bafoussam have quite the gem if you are willing to take the time to dig, and deal with obnoxious men who yell ridiculous things and grab your hand in passing. The fripperie sells clothes, shoes, handbags that come from the US, Europe and elsewhere. Most are used, and not great. But sometimes, they have pretty decent things for a great price. I was never into digging for these gems, but now that my days left in Cameroon are marked, I now have more vested interest in finding the goods to take back with me.

The items that you can find in these African markets are absolutely hilarious. They range from cheap plastic, shiny shoes from China, to big poofy, 90's prom dresses, but sometimes, brand new, expensive designer shoes that still have stickers from TJ Maxx on it marking at $29.99. Today, I bought a pair of new BCBG heels for a whopping $14. Also, two skirts from European boutiques and a collar shirt for a total of $10. These are consider more "high-end" products that are being sold in small stalls within the market. There are also vendors who push around a cart with a pile of clothes on them. They look a bit like the bins you see in stores during sales. The other day, I got a crew-cut t-shirt for a total of .... 80 cents!

For my remaining days in Cameroon, I will be spending a lot of time in the market looking for hidden gems and haggling with the bargaining skills that I've honed up over the past two years.

Oh, and if you are wondering what obnoxious things are being yelled at me, here are some examples:

mon bébé, viens ici, viens voir! (my babe, come here, come look!) ma chérie, vous êtes belles, hein? vous me mariez? (my darling, you are pretty, marry me?) la blache! la blanche! viens! (white girl, white girl, come!) la chinoise! hee haw (Chinese girl! random sounds that are suppose to be Chinese) Usually these things are yelled at me in a variety of combination. The obnoxious thing is that even with my poker face on, they'll still yell various things at me for a long time after I've walked away. I used to hate going to the market for this reason. But now I'm more used to it, and also I'm there often enough that some people know me. A good number of the vendors are actually from Batié, so we've became friends. If the guys just yell things at me, I usually just ignore them and keep walking. But the moment they grab my arm or touch me in anyway, then I would turn around and smack them. That works well and the guys around usually get a kick out of it. They laugh at the guy and make him more embarrassed. Double the effect!

Oh the quirks of Cameroonian markets! I've started to find them rather endearing and I will probably miss it in the future. I know I will definitely miss designer shoes for $15 for less!

The events of this week has left me totally frustrated with the way things work in this country. I was always aware of the inefficiency, but I do everything in my power to avoid them. This past week, I've had to deal with them first hand. Let me tell you, NOT fun. I grew up in Taiwan and thus was brought up with the Asian efficiency. There were times when I thought Americans were inefficient. All this just makes dealing with Cameroonian inefficiency that much more grueling for me.

I won't go into too much detail on all the mishaps, but I'll mention them in bullet-point forms. Yesterday, it took an hour-long run plus an hour of power yoga for me to get rid of the frustration. I don't need to talk about it in detail and bring that back again. So, in a nutshell:

two trips to Bafoussam to meet the new governor and finalize things for the ceremony and storage space. Two trips this week, in addition to many trips before, and still no confirmation on -anything-. The trips/meetings were for the most part pointless. Nothing they couldn't tell my in a phone call. In addition, I STILL don' know who the new governor is.

was informed two days ago that the Embassy can no longer clear our container from Books For Africa. Apparently there was a new policy change, and somehow no one informed me. The person in Peace Corps who told me a year ago that he'd help me with the process also had no idea. Did I mention a YEAR?

23,000 books are suppose to come in one week. A ceremony and distribution of books are taking place in two weeks. We still have no idea on the following: how to get the container out of customs, how much it will cost, who will ship it to Bafoussam, if we have a place to store it for sure, the exact process of getting the books where they need to be, exactly how many people are coming to the ceremony, who is preparing for the food, etc. etc. etc. So basically, 95% of everything remains a big question. Yet, for some reason, people don't seem bothered by it. I know things will work out, but this whole waiting everything until the last minute way is driving me insane. I am the biggest procrastinator so I know all about putting things off, but not when it involves other people. Two days ago, during one of our pointless meetings, the guy said, "but the 19th is ways away". Did he think the books will sort themselves and the caterer and everything for the ceremony will magically show up? This is precisely how so many "festivals" that suppose to take place in this country turns out to be a bust. Because people apparently feel things will magically appear and organize themselves...

During one of my rides, I finally see why for the most part, Cameroonians are very apathetic. I thought, "I would be, too, if I was a citizen here." Why bother if you have food in your stomach and enough to get by in life? There are so many hoops to jump through in order to get even the most simple task accomplished that it's no wonder people just do what they need to, and let the rest be. Can you blame them? I know there are still plenty of Cameroonians who do care and are striving to make a real difference, and for that, I have a great deal of respect.

After nearly two years in Cameroon, there are some things that I still don't understand about the culture, and I likely will never understand. The traditioanl chiefs that is prevalent here in the West region of Cameroon is one of such things.

Yesterday, Théo and I met with the chief of Batié who had arranged a meeting with all the chiefs of the villages who are participants of the Books For Cameroon project.

I have not had the best of experience with these traditional chiefs in Cameroon. When I first arrived, I visited my chief to do protocol - informing him of my arrival and such. I remember arriving at his house and waited for at least an hour. Reason? he was sleeping. My counterpart who brought me just kept saying, "well that's just how it is."

My thought was, "then why do you people put up with it?!" I thought perhaps over the next two years I would understand this culture better. Well, I haven't.

The meeting yesterday consisted of 9 chiefs. I explained the origin of the project, and our expectations of their roles in following up with these libraries. It's important to have someone in the community to follow up on the project because the principals of public schools are appointed by the Minister of Education. Personnel thus gets changed around at moments' notice, and for no rhyme or reason. That's the Cameroonian government for you.

Yet to be perfectly honest, I have my share of doubts on what these chiefs are actually going to do to ensure smooth follow-up. Nevertheless, it's important, and Théo, the Cameroonian from the local NGO whom I'm working with, thinks it's very necessary.

So, the meeting was scheduled at noon. We started roughly around 1pm. But only 3 chiefs were present. We continued on. For the next 3 hours, I repeated my short speech at least 3 times because more chiefs were showing up at different time.

Perhaps it's the upbringing in a democratic society, but I find the deference that people have to these chiefs to be extremely obnoxious. Yes it's a sign of respect, but WHY? What did these people ever do to earn the respect? Oh, they were born into the right family.

While the chiefs that were present at the meeting were all nice enough guys, I began thinking on how this kind of traditions prevents development of a country. There was a time in history that monarchy was prevalent in many countries around the world. But there is also a reason why almost all of them have been abolished.

The power structure in these villages that still have traditional chiefs makes getting anything accomplished extremely difficult. It took us over a month to finally get this one simple meeting scheduled. Imagine trying to get more things done with them. Adding onto it a corrupt and inefficient government, it's no wonder progress is slow. Besides, I find it extremely bizarre that in 2010, people still address others with "Your Majesty". I associate those words with the 18th century.

This all makes me the more glad that I was born and raised in societies where the most respect I need to give anyone is a polite handshake and I never would have to address anyone with such deference.

The sprawling city of Bamenda

Sometimes, I feel like Cameroon has broke me. Two years in this country has somehow taken away those sympathetic ways that once was a big part of my personality. I am often annoyed when people comment "aww... those poor people" on my pictures from this experience. I no longer "feel sorry" for Cameroonians, or Africans in general. Don't shed pity on them, they have more dignity than that. Be angry for them that so many of their governments on this continent is corrupt and that the people do not have the opportunities they deserve.

Feel angry, feel the injustice, but don't feel sorry.

My first experience relating to international development was at a conference in Lawrence, Kansas where some speaker was talking about the UN Millennium Goals and later there was a pamphlet on an organization that has "child sponsorship" programs for people to financially support children in Africa. In return, you would receive letters and different correspondences. I wanted to sponsor a kid, but didn't have the ability as a poor student. This was 4 years ago.

Over these past 4 years, or more so within the past two years, I've learned and realized the power of PR work of these aid organizations to portrait a situation that perhaps isn't so grave, and turn them into a heart-wrenching picture that have you reaching for your VISA card. I know, because I did it myself to raise money for my library project.

Even still, I continue to contribute. I gave to the Haiti relief effort. I have long been a supporter of Kiva.org and I lend regularly to different projects around the world. Despite the fact I learn that Kiva really doesn't operate the way you think they do. Most of the pictures and stories you read or are lending to have likely already received funding. They do it for the PR and to reach and fulfill the human nature of needing a personal story. I understand. I am in no way disparaging the work of different NGOs, they are important in their own ways. I simply want to point out the difference in perception.

Recently, I received an update in my email inbox from Kiva's field fellow reporting the progress of my loan here in Cameroon. Here is an excerpt from that message:Having spent three months in the Northwest Region of Cameroon, I’m

very pleased to share that your loans are making a big difference in an

area that has so much promise and yet is in such dire need. Despite the

strong agricultural potential of the Northwest Region, an industry that

makes up nearly fifty percent of Cameroon’s overall economy, I have

seen too much malnutrition, illness and death. Easily the most difficult

part of my time here in Cameroon has been that, within three short

months, I have attended eight burials compared to one birth celebration

and one marriage. Poverty, illness and death are much too common parts

of everyday life here in Bamenda, Cameroon, but there is hope.I have been to Bamenda many times. It is the provincial capital of the Northwest Region - one of the anglophone regions in Cameroon, and one of the most developed. You wouldn't get this idea from reading that paragraph, however. What this Kiva Fellow describes is the image of Cameroon that I might have had 20 months ago, first arriving to this country.

But now, when I think of Bamenda, I am amazed at all the things you can buy, and how developed the city is. Also, this fellow was likely here during the funéraille season, where many funerals and parties take place, some long after the deceased has passed. To contrast that, Cameroonians have SO many babies, they cannot possibly throw a party for every child that is born. It's simply not in the custom.

Perception is relative. I am glad to have this experience and be able to perceive people's life for what it is. I don't feel bad for them, but instead, I try to see beauty in their way of life. In the Northwest and West region of Cameroon, food is plentiful, and people rarely starve. Illnesses, yes, but starvation is rare. No, they may not be able to afford the material goods that we can, but they also don't spend thousands on therapy like a lot of us do, either. Relativity, my friends. The Western/capitalistic way, isn't always the best.

Need Eggs? They are almost always free-ranged here!

How about some fresh oranges?

Public transportation? You got it!

Who needs a car when you can have motos?

Cameroonians LOVE their certificates!

Apologies for the lack of updates as of late. A lot seems to be going on lately, a lot, for Cameroonian standard. I attempt to think back to 3 weeks before I came to Cameroon, and wonder how I managed to sleep on average 4-6 hours a night, took 18 credit hours of courses, worked 20 hours a week, and volunteered 10 hours a week. I need to somehow try to find that side of me again, or graduate school will be brutal come September.

So, what exactly has been going on with me? I finished my third round of business classes in village, 4th round if you count the week-long seminar in Yaoundé. I visited Fondonera, one of the towns that's involved in my library project. Celebrated Chinese New Year with my Chinese family. Attempting to not pull my hair out or punch the wall when translating that 35+ page of library management training manual into French. And oh, 23,000 books are coming my way next week, and many things, true to Cameroonian form, are still up in the air. I am constantly taking deep breaths and trying not to flip out on someone.

Et voilà! That's what's been taking up my time, on top of the usual everyday stuff like dishes, laundry, cooking, cleaning, showering - all without running water. All those things still somehow have an amazing way of taking up my day.

Anyhoo, this latest round of business class was again a success. I had 32 students enrolled and 29 of them completed the course requirement and earned a certificate! More people have already asked me when the next round wil be... we shall see!

Since pictures worth a thousand words, below are some photos taken by Kristine - my temporary boss who came to visit me a few weeks ago. These are precious evidence that I actually do do some work and not just sleep a lot and hang out. :)

Look at my students getting thithinking caps on!

This day's lesson was budgeting.

See? I do work, sometime. :) So even though I haven't been writing in recent weeks, I've been storing up some good ideas while I've been running around. I'll post them in the coming days. Stayed tuned!

Lately, my mood has been swinging between the two extremes: a.) very sad that the end of Peace Corps service is upon me and b.) can NOT wait to get out of Cameroon and begin the next chapter of my life. The mood swings are making me feel a bit bi-polar-esque. Some days I feel I'm on a standstill and extremely anxious to begin new adventures. But other days, I am reminded just why I love my village. Saturday was one of those days. And these great moments have kept me sane throughout my service, and they are keeping me grounded during these last anxious days. Unlike any other adventure, Cameroon is one place that I likely will not return for a long time to come. Must remember that. I snapped some photos on one of my walks as a reminder.

Princess Mariya, one of my current students in my class, invited me over for some Bamoun cuisine. I thought it was rather odd that she refers to herself as a Princess until I found out she is a member of the royal family in Foumban. A royal family twice removed, that is. When one mentions the Royal Family, the image that naturally rises in people's minds are the handsome Prince William and the elegant Queen Elizabeth. Not quite the same here in Cameroon, especially in the West region where every other person you meet is a chief of some sort.

Anyway, unlike the Bamiléké tribe where we live in, Mariya is from the Bamoun tribe that is heavily influenced with the Muslim culture. She invited me over to eat some couscous and gumbo. Which, if you are a volunteer reading this, you probably made some kind of ugly face. Couscous and gumbo aren't the tastiest of meals for the American/Chinese palette. Luckily the Bamoun version of couscous & gumbo is better than the Bamiléké version - less snot-esque.

The meal was good fun. We chatted about various things. Later, two more of her teacher friends stopped by, and both happened to be former students of mine in the same business class. We had some lively discussions about business opportunities in Batié, general business classes, the courses I teach, and the like. I love the sense of community here. There is an overwhelming request for me to do a final tour of business classes before I leave. It's heart-warming. Yet I must see if I will have adequate time to squeeze in another series! Despite how anxious I may be on some days to leave this place behind, I know I will be very sad when that moment actually arrives.

The above photo sums up how I spent most of August, 2008. This was the tail end of our stage (training) and we spent a lot of time at Chez Pierre's in Bangangté watching the Summer Olympic in China!

I love the Olympics! And this is why I didn't hesitate when Team USA contacted me to see if I would write something about the Winter Olympic in Vancouver that's starting this Friday on my blog. They need some support because the sad Winter Olympic gets only a fraction of the coverage compare to the mighty Summer Olympic games.

I know we all prefer the sun over the snow, but there is something pretty nifty about the winter games amongst the white fluffy snow. Perhaps I'm just a bit nostalgic for winter weather since I've been living in Africa for 2 years. And besides, these athletes also spent their whole life training for the games, they deserve some attention, right? I never get into those major league sports in the USA. Last night's Superbowl did not interest me one bit, but I do love the Olympic games, and this is my way of showing a little support, and hope you will, too!

Only 10 am and my day is off to a fabulous start... not.

After my frustration yesterday, I figured I'd simply sleep on it and that today would be another day. Yes, another not-so-fantastic day.

First, my gas tank went out, again. It's only been 3 weeks since I last replaced the stupid thing. Must have gotten a bad tank that leaks. Luckily I have a fabulous moto guy who will go change it for me.

Next, I received a text message from the Peace Corps Medical Officer (PCMO) - you know how the government loves their acronyms - informing that it is MANDATORY that I travel to the provincial capital TOMORROW to receive the H1N1 vaccine. Tomorrow?! Yes, let me just drop everything I have to do and get there. Who does that?!

On any other day, it wouldn't have been a big deal. This would have just been another chance for volunteers to get together to hang out. But tomorrow is the day that Théo and I had planned on squeezing in all these meetings with the governor's people and Cameroonian businesses for the Books For Cameroon project - something that is overwhelming me as it is. I was suppose to go to these meetings, then rush back to teach my business class.

Now I suppose I will just have to reschedule these meetings so Peace Corps can give me this vaccine that they failed to notify me in advance? PCMO says it's Washington mandate. But I'm not sure whose fault it is on the short notice. Either way, this is a prime example of the poor planning and lack of efficiency that happens.

Yes, I am likely just being dramatic and need to take a chill pill. Perhaps I should double up on the yoga today... I am just so. ready. to. get. out. of. Cameroon.

Today, at some point during my two-hour business class, the Peace Corps equivalent of senioritis hit me. It must have been the moment when I was teaching the importance of sharing knowledge they've acquired with others, since I won't always be here to teach the classes, and an annoying student who rarely shows up to class loudly shouted, "well you should just get married and stay here." I looked at him and said, "would you like to leave the classroom?" I don't care if he's 40. Don't be a jerk, or I will throw you out.

I've been getting back into my yoga practice. And this morning I did my one-hour session. But after the class tonight, I felt the need to roll out the mat again. If bucket-bathing in the latrine at night isn't such a pain the butt, I would have done another session of yoga to let it all go.

I am overwhelmed with the Books For Cameroon project. All along, I adopted the "one step at a time" approach, because if I try to think of everything at once, then there was no way the project would have progressed to where it is today. But now, almost a year later, there are still many more steps ahead, and I am exhausted.

I've begged for more money than I ever care to beg in a lifetime, not for me, but for the well-being of others. I've coordinated 10 schools within the 3 surrounding villages, on top of a few other far-reaching villages who all wanted to benefit from my project. My life would have been a lot easier if I just said no, but that's now what you do as a Peace Corps Volunteer, right? I've sent out a million emails to the team of volunteers whom, I'm sure by now, are so sick of my emails, in order to coordinate and ensure that 23,000 books get to the 35 libraries somehow.

When I met the fundraising goal of $11,500, people said to me, "well now you must be relieved, the work is done." Um, not quite, the work has just begun. I've ran around to all 10 schools to collect money, make sure they have shelves built for the libraries and that they are dedicated to the project. Then I realized I underestimated the cost of in-country transport, so now Théo and I are running around town trying to get big Cameroonian enterprises to sponsor our event. I think there is a big chance MTN Foundation will put up some money for our transportation cost. The last time I heard, the proposed figure is 1 million CFA ($2000). Crossing our fingers on that one!

Side note: Théo is the wonderful founder and manager of the local NGO RIDEV that many volunteers have worked with. I think he is the reason I have not gone insane yet with this project. The man is full of wonderful optimism and knows everyone, which makes life a lot easier. He also is aware of all the annoying protocol procedures that we volunteers hate. If it wasn't for him, I probably would've left this country with many libraries built, but also many important people offended. It was his proposal to organize a ceremony for the ministries and related officials to recognize the project. The ceremony itself does not do much for the project, but it gets in the good graces of Cameroonian officials, which is important for Peace Corps.

The books are estimated to reach the Douala port on February 22nd. So I'm working with Peace Corps and the Embassy to get this container cleared through customs with as little problem as possible. There is the logistics of how to get 20,000 books to where they need to be. Can you even imagine how many books that is?! I can't, but I suppose we'll soon find out. Who knew logistic management in developing country is a skill I'd acquire in Cameroon? Something more to go on the résumé, I suppose.

Logistics aside, the list of things to do and to think of goes on, and on. The library management training: besides writing the classes, I have to somehow organize all these schools and make sure they send the right people to come to the training. And after I train them, I have to run around and make sure they are implementing what they've learned. This is going to be a pure nightmare.

Let's not forget about the ceremony that I'm suppose to organize.... You see this is why I must go one step at a time? Thinking about it all is driving me into a freak-out moment.

Planning and organizing an event is difficult in the US, the country of efficiency. Imagine doing that in Cameroon - the country of... well, not efficiency. To be honest, I have been fairly lucky and have not ran into too many problems. But it's the sheer volume of things to think about that is becoming far too overwhelming. I suppose this offsets those first few months when I didn't do much... ça va aller...? on espère.

Now that I've decided on my next move, I'm getting increasingly more anxious with the rest of my time here in Cameroon. Yet at the same time, I am trying to take in every last bit of this love-hate relationship that I've developed with Cameroon.

Some things in the past few days that I want to remember:

The drive from Bafoussam to Batié. This is 30-45 minute ride is one that I take very frequently and over the past 20 months, I've now gotten quite comfortable. I almost always sit in the front passenger seat, meaning I only need to be squished with one other person. And if I get lucky, this person is skinny and I'm riding (relatively) comfortably. The ride is beautiful, and I made a mental note that I will take a video of it before I leave.

I have grown to be practically immune to bugs. I don't even bother to get up and kill bugs when I see them now. It's too much work. I simply let them roam freely in my house. Luckily, I have lots of little lizard friends who are around to eat the bugs. These lizards remind me of childhood in Taiwan, so comforting also in that way. Few nights ago, a lizard attacked one of the biggest spider I've EVER seen in my entire life. And friends, I've seen a lot of freaking large spiders, this one was special. Little lizard somehow was able to attack this spider that is bigger than himself and proceed to start swallow/eat it. I sat in my chair and watched this live attack going down. Who needs National Geographic when I have this happening 3 feet from me?

I was running today and neighborhood kids were sliding down a sandy hill with various lids/tubs, then climbing back up the hill, and repeat the act. This immediately reminded me of going sledding in the snow! Appropriately enough, it is still winter in the Northern hemisphere. People do the same things. Black or white. Snow or sand.

Recently discovered that eating locally produced roasted peanuts and Mambo (local, I think, chocolate) bar simultaneously really closely mimics peanut M&Ms! Wish I had discovered this earlier. But, I still won't mind if you send me peanut M&Ms. :) That is all. And lastly, I recently received an email from a prospective PCV who shares the same Taiwanese-American background. Not many Asians join the Peace Corps and I was happy to discuss with her my experience and provide some insights. I try to be meticulous about keeping up with this blog because I enjoyed reading others' experiences while applying. If you are a prospective PCV reading this, let me know what kind of info you would like me to write or to add. And of course, I'm always happy to answer questions via email!

I've always been a terrible procrastinator. In college, the semesters when my grades were less than stellar were the semesters when I didn't have a sufficient part-time job. I take the free time for granted and I procrastinate. In the end. I don't accomplish as much. Being busy in a way manages my time for me. There are only so many hours in a day to go around, and when the days are filled, I don't have the choice to sit around.

Here in the Peace Corps, I have nothing but time. And as a result, I procrastinate, a lot. For the Books For Cameroon project, we are in the process of designing library management training for the participating schools and communities. Kate has compiled materials from two different sources to create the training manual. While I've delegated the training design to Kate and the others, I still somehow ended up with the amazing job of translating 30+ pages of document into French (note the extreme sarcasm.) I just keep telling myself it will be good for my French...

I have started on the translation work and frankly, it's not that bad. But, it is a lot like in college when I have papers to write. I know all it takes is me sitting down and just doing it. Yet when I have the time to put it off, that's exactly what I've been doing...

For the past few days, I have been obsessing with thinking about life in London next year and everything that comes along with that. Oh yes, battle of graduate school is over. I made a decision to attend London School of Economics next year! Anyway, I told myself I would reserve the entire Sunday to my translation work.

Naturally, Sunday gets here and my Internet was out all day. Internet makes my life a lot easier with the online dictionary. So of course, I decided the work can start tomorrow. Old habits die hard.

It is also no wonder Cameroonians never rush to do anything and are always nonchalant about scheduling. Why bother scheduling anything when things out of your control will happen and mess up the plan?

Somehow, the end of January has sneaked upon us. That August 2010 COS (Close-of-Service) date once seemed so far away is now in the not-so-distant future. Usually, people leave a bit earlier, especially those of us that are going on to graduate school.

With an end in sight, I've been thinking of the next step. With graduate school decisions slowly rolling in, I am faced with some important decisions, and one that comes with a hefty price tag. Unless American institutions cough up some serious funding, my choices remain between schools in London and Paris. With an acceptance from the LSE (London School of Economics) in hand, the other offers will need to be quite impressive to compete. Stay tuned to the battle of gradschool!

I've been doing some research online between the different schools, accommodation, etc. One thin leads to another, and before you know it, I was looking at cell phone plans, home decor, grocery stores, gym memberships. And as I look at all these shiny websites, I realized just how far removed I am from the modern world. Everything seems incredibly foreign to me, and I had forgotten a good majority of things that even exists on the marketplace.

The re-integration process will be brutal. In roughly 7 months, gone will be the days of waking up without an alarm, and leisurely drinking coffee and easing into my mornings. Yikes, I best enjoy the remaining of quiet village life while I have it. It's a tough balance between feeling very excited about the "real world" yet being sad that this part of my life is about to come to an end and I will never experience anything like it again.

But until next summer arrives, I have got some serious work to get done! Currently, I'm teaching the third series of business classes in village. The final count of students from this round is 31! I am quite pleased. Books For Cameroon project is progressing. 20,000+ books will arrive at the end of February. Crossing fingers that all well go somewhat smoothly and that maybe, just maybe, for once Cameroonian bureaucracy and corruption will not rain on our parade.

After nearly 20 months of being in Cameroon, I finally gave in and got some dreads on my head. I never really had any real special interest in getting the hair done, but I figured it's one of those things that I simply must experience before leaving. So, just before launching my 3rd round of business classes in village, I spent the entire day "becoming African".

My friend Bibian is a hairdresser and she has been asking me about getting my hair done for months. Naturally, she was thrilled when I told her I'll finally take the plunge. So, Monday morning, we found ourselves at the local bar that I frequent and began the long process of hair-braiding.

True to Cameroonian form, Bibian told me she works really fast and it'd only take 3 hours or so. To which I was extremely skeptical since I have heard nothing but excruciating long hours from other girls. For some, it's even a 2-day event. From hour 1 of the process, Bibian kept saying, "see? it's really fast, we'll be done soon". This is SO Cameroonian. It's much like when they tell you, "yeah, yeah, I am on my way", but then don't show up until an hour or two later.

The Beginning

Naturally, it came to be 5pm and we were finally putting the finishing touches on my rasta. By this time, mamas who were walking by would come and help tying up the ends. At one point, there were 4 women working on my head. Of course, Bibian said, "well it's only because you have so much hair that it takes so long." riiight. Always take their indicator of time with a grain of salt and add on 3 hours or more. Time is absolutely not money in this culture.

Hour 6

In the end, this was really fun experience. During the 6 hours of hair-braiding, villagers would stop by to comment on how good it looks on me and how I'm becoming a real African. And of course, "now that you are becoming a real African, you should definitely get married here and not go home."

Bibian & Me

The demand for me to stay in country has been overwhelming these past few days since I got the hair done. Everyone from village mama, to sketchy men, to the governor of the West Region advised that it's best that I do not go back to the U.S.

Yes, the governor. I met with him yesterday with Théo´in regard to the Books For Cameroon project. During the meeting, Théo mentioned that I will be ending my service in about 6 months, to which the governor said, "what are you doing going back to the States? You should get married here and stay! Sure there are some dust, but the climate is great!" We continued to talk about the project, and at the end of the meeting, he walked us to the door and said, "I hope you will take my advice and stay here. You can go home to get married, but come back here to live." Théo said he must have been impressed by me because he invited us to his "salon" instead of his "bureau", and the "salon" is supposedly for special guests only. Funny Cameroonians.

Now, the beauty is not without a cost. Besides the fact it took 6 hours, my scalp also hurt a great deal during the first night from the weight of all the fake hair and I couldn't do anything but to lay horizontally on my bed to ease the pain. The pain, however, is really worth it because the villagers, and even my friends in Bafoussam love it so much! This is definitely one of those "I will miss Cameroon" moments.

Located in the Southwest region of Cameroon, Limbé is one of my favorite towns in the country, and my preferred beach vacation destination here in Cameroon. After Christmas, I spent a few days there both for business and pleasure. I needed to visit Limbé City Library, one of the participating libraries for the Books For Cameroon project. I thus used this and gave myself a few days of vacation hanging by the beach and eating amazing seafood.

Amazing Seafood at Down Beach

Limbé is an English colonial town, and I dare say the cleanest, more orderly town in Cameroon, far better organized than the political and economic capitals of Douala and Yaoundé, respectively, both Francophone cities (remnants of the French colonization).

The Limbé City Library became a participate of the Books For Cameroon project when a Cameroonian living in the US emailed Peace Corps Washington about participating. When his email reached me, I happily agreed because I love Limbé, and the beach. :)

The former librarian Maggie and I have been corresponding via email. When I finally met her and the library, I was thoroughly impressed. It's already a well-functioning library with card catalogs, reference materials, and even a kids corner. Their biggest need is more books, which is where the project comes in.

Here I must comment on the wonderful Cameroonian hospitality. Maggie and I met to tour the library and she graciously invited me to her home after the visit. Her sister was getting married that day, so the house was filled with a flurry of activities - chicken killing, food cooking, people singing (rehearsing) and the like. Maggie introduced me to her family, and showed me photo albums of her family that are abroad. She made sure to tell me that her home is always welcome to me when I visit Limbé and she also wanted to see if I was able to attend the wedding that evening. Weddings here is an ALL night festivity and since I was to travel back to Yaoundé the following day, I kindly declined the invitation. It blows my mind how nice she was to me, a total stranger that she has never met just two hours prior!

Oh, funny side note. One of the many people I met at her house met me and said, "oh, I follow you on Twitter!" It was so strange for that to happen here in Africa! Oh, the power of social media!

Happy New Year to my lovely readers!

In 2009, I spent the entire calendar year in Cameroon. The last time I spent an entire calendar year in the same country was 2004. The constant locality made me feel as though nothing much happened, but in close examination, 2009 was yet another exciting year. I continued to grow as a person and finding new directions in life. 2009 was the year that I really improved on my French skills, my bargain shopping abilities (Cameroon style), and became fluent with Cameroonian travel. This, however, was also the year filled with technological mishaps.

January: Macbook internal hard drive crashed just after the New Years. I spent the month thinking a lot, reading a lot, reading a lot and being mad at the Cameroon postal service a lot. This was the month I questioned for the first time my role in the Peace Corps and my purpose in Cameroon.

February: Macbook fixed. Wonderful trip to the Grand North region of Cameroon with Juliette that took me out of the funk. Began new chapter of social life in Cameroon after Juliette's departure from my village. Advertised and organized my first series of business classes. Drama with village kids began this month.

March: Successfully began business classes in village. Feeling productive and contributive for the first time. Planning for the Books For Cameroon project was underway. Village drama with kids continued. Introduced to the world of Twitter!

April: Wonderful ending to the business classes. Proposal writing for the Books For Cameroon project and other prep work. A big thunder storm came through and fried my power converter and Macbook charger.

May: Traveled half way around the world to my place of origin in Taiwan, with extended layovers through Paris. Very touching experience to see families again after so many years, and also re-thinking about my roots. Logged 48 hours in an airplane within a 3-week period (lots of frequent flyer miles!).

June: Hosted my long-time friend Megan's visit to Cameroon. Refreshing seeing Cameroon from her perspective. Proposal for the Books For Cameroon project approved, began the long grueling process of begging for $11,500.

July: Conducted a week-long business seminar in Yaoundé for a group of university students with RELUFA, a Cameroonian NGO. Strategizing the fundraising effort. Drafting press releases and researching various avenues.

August: Launched second series of business classes in village. Continued money-begging. Decided that I would return to school after Peace Corps and purse a masters degree in the areas of international relations/economics public policy.

September: Finished second round of classes. Shifted fundraising activity into high-gear. Flooded every social media website imaginable. Basically bugged the hell out of everyone I know and many people whom I don't know. Desperation makes one do crazy things. Also, GRE studying. Technological mishap: Kate dropped my iPod, and it died. Luckily, Nura sold me hers.

October: Somehow, miraculously raised $11,500. Re-took the GRE. Prepared for graduate school applications. Followed up on various business consulting projects in village. Bought Nura's comp when she left the country as an insurance against future technological mishaps.

November: Submitted graduate school applications. Received the first acceptance from University College London a few weeks later. Began planning logistics to execute the Books For Cameroon project. Thanksgiving in Bali/Bamenda.

December: Follow-up with participating schools and communities in the project. Communicating with Books For Africa on the Stateside, and RIDEV, MTN Foundation and others in Cameroon to plan the next step. Holiday travel to Kumbo, Limbé and finished the year in Yaoundé. Last tech mishap of the year: dumped a cup of coffee on the computer I bought from Nura, and it died.

All in all, a very fulfilling 2009 and here's to an even more exciting 2010!

Christmas is upon us, and until few days ago, the holiday season really hasn't phased me. I carried on with my everyday life and didn't think much of it. But these past few days, I've been missing the Christmas spirit.

Here in Cameroon, people do celebrate Christmas, but nothing is really different until Christmas Eve, every other day are just your ordinary days. The holiday exists, but the holiday season does not.

Definitely no Christmas markets here in Cameroon

Market in Bath, England 2006

People often complain about the commercialization of the holidays and the consumer frenzy that accompanies this time of the year. I was always pretty indifferent. I did like the Christmas trees, lights, music, etc. But from time to time, I did find it a bit obnoxious. This is my second year away from all of that, and while the first year was interesting, this year, I really miss it. I suppose it's that old saying of you don't know how good it is until you don't have it anymore.

In an attempt to recreate the holiday spirit, I waited til the nightfall and put on some Christmas music, and baked a batch of white chocolate chip cranberry cookies. I tell you, the Peace Corps has turned me into the perfect housewife! Now I just need some milk and maybe, just maybe, Santa will make a quick stop?

To you, the above picture is just a normal gas station that you stop in all day long to pick up a soda, a cup of coffee, some snacks. For me, I almost fainted when I walked into this fancy gas station in the town of Mbouda.

Mbouda is a town 30 minutes car ride from Bafoussam - the provincial capital here in the West region. I have never seen a gas station like that in Bafoussam, or even in major cities like Douala or Yaoundé. But of course, I am not usually on a hunt for fancy gas stations.

Anyway, yes Mbouda is a happening place, but nothing like a major city, not even close. By happening, I mean there is a market, a bakery, gas stations, bars, etc. Not New York City. You can imagine my surprise when I walked in. Okay, maybe you can't imagine. Let's just say I was completely caught off guard with this fancy set-up and was freaking out for at least 10 minutes, and then spent the next 15 just wandering around in this well-lit, organized place that has actually cold drinks in the fridges and also air conditioning?!?

The workers were really amused by my reaction. I kept saying, "c'est comme chez nous!" (it's like where I'm from!)

All of the Participants - St. Augustine School in Foumbot

As a Peace Corps Volunteer, one of the global, cross-sector initiative is HIV/AIDS awareness and education. In honor of World AIDS Day, Kate organized a day-long seminar at her post and invited volunteers in the surrounding area to participate.

Up until this event, I hadn't done any AIDS or other health related activities. Partly because I am not a health volunteer and I didn't feel I had adequate training to facilitate these sessions. Like anything else in the Peace Corps, talking sensitive subjects like practicing safe sex, peer pressure, etc. takes only step forward. Once I was conducting the seminar, I wondered why I thought it would be difficult.

Students Taking Notes

We had a really successful turned out of nearly 100 students. I was very impressed that all these kids were willing to spend their Saturday with us and most were very engaged and eager to learn. Alec and I had the younger age group and as a part of AIDS education, naturally we had condom demonstration. Yes, there were some natural giggles that came with a room full of teenagers learning how to use a condom, but overall, kids were really respectful, eager to volunteer themselves and I dare say perhaps more mature than if I was doing the same seminar in front of 50 teenagers from suburbia St. Louis.

I think the big difference is that these kids in a way realize that these information is vital. For these kids, the disease is real. HIV/AIDS is not just something that happens to people far far away. For them, it happens right here to people around them.

Peace Corps Volunteers & Staffs of the School

A frustrating day with things that I would rather, and probably should not go into. But I wanted to share this passage from another PCV's blog that spoke to me. She was describing a terrible day with many things going wrong. If you spend even a few weeks actually working in this country, you can relate perfectly with her sentiments. She ended with this wonderful paragraph:

No. Don’t pity Africans their poverty. Pity them the colonialism, the traditions, and resulting clusterfuck of disorganization that many countries on the continent have suffered and which crushes hope of making a difference insidiously, beginning with early childhood, until the people become docile and incapable of getting angry in the face of injustice, chalking everything up to fate.

Working in this country can be extremely frustrating. Your emotions are often heightened and when things go wrong, you can't just meet up with good friends at the end of the day for a drink at happy hour. My bad day didn't have anything to do with Cameroonians, but still. The more time I spend in this country, the more I am used to using the phrase "on va faire comment?" (what are you gonna do? - the answer to every difficult, unpleasant situation in this country) sometimes, circumstances doesn't allow you do do anything but sit and say, "well, that sucks". Unfortunately, those circumstances occur at a much higher frequency in this country than elsewhere that I've lived.

Happy belated Thanksgiving to all!

At the very last minute, a friend coaxed me into attending a Thanksgiving dinner hosted by other PCVs. If you didn't know this about me, I am a very lazy person, socially. People like me in a crowd because I just follow whatever plans someone has made, no real objections, ever. I'm the dream of every social control freak. However, this means when there is no one telling me what the plans are, I am perfectly content to stay home and read a book.

For this Thanksgiving, I was perfectly content to go hang out with my Chinese family until someone more or less said, "you are coming to Thanksgiving, it's at this place, show up."

And, per my compliant self, I did. Boy was it a good time!

Besides the subsitution of chickens for Turkey, I think that Thanksgiving might have been more "American" than ones I would've had back in the U.S. As you know, with my Chinese family, we always had to add some Chinese flavor to our Thanksgiving dinner. Thanks to someone's family's generous care package, at our dinner, we had the works - stove top stuffing, gravy, chicken, mashed potatoes, mac n cheese, green beans, pumpkin pie, pecan pie, brownies, etc. It was legit!

For me, Thanksgiving is one of those rare occasions where it is really nice to be with Americans. In some ways, Thanksgiving is almost like the "American Christmas". Most Western cultures celebrate Christmas, but only Americans celebrate Thanksgiving. And when it comes down to it, the two holidays are similar - it's about being with family, and lots of food! :) I almost prefer Thanksgiving because it doesn't involve the whole present fuss.

I've spent more Thanksgiving abroad in recent years, but there has always been a made-up Thanksgiving upon my return. Next July, there will be a Thanksgiving meal at the Lee household! Holidays abroad isn't always easy, and I've had to endure many of them. This is the price you pay for a life of a wandering globetrotter. On the upside, with the right people, these occasions often make memories that last a lifetime.

For the past two weeks, I have been visiting schools and communities that I am responsible for between Batié, Bapa and Bandenkop, and checking up on there progress in library readiness.

École Publique de Famgoum I - Batié

École Publique de Sim Tsela - Bandenkop

Much to my surprise, the schools were mostly very engaged and are making significant progress in getting things off the ground. Granted, there were definitely drama. One of the schools had absolutely nothing done even after I gave them a warning a month ago. The principal and the team of administrative were obviously corrupt. During the 5 minutes that I was in the office, they asked me about the computers 3 times. I yelled at them and said, "computers are secondary. This is a project about building libraries, not getting computers. You are off the project." and left.

They were feeding me ridiculous excuses about parents not cooperating, blah blah blah. Which I know is utter nonsense. Between the 10 schools that I am working with, no one has any problems getting the PTA to construct shelves and pay for the in-country transport. The schools are all in the same community, which means there must be an overlap of parents. To feed me that excuse was just stupid. Instead of arguing with the corrupt people, I saved my energy and accepted a wait-list school at the last minute.

If nothing else, executing projects in the Peace Corps definitely requires you to think VERY fast on your feet! All in all, the project is progressing. We submitted the order form for 19,000 books and 7 computers to Books For Africa last week. If all goes smoothly, we should receive the shipment at the end of January! For more pictures and updates, follow our Facebook Page!

This one is too cute! École Publique de Nso'o-Batié (preschoolers!)

This past weekend my rich neighbor had a BIG fête! My moto guy is a family member of this rich neighbor and they live in the same concession. He informed me of this rare event that occurs only once every 5 years or so - a fête to celebrate the elders in the family that reached 70 years old.

For weeks, the rich neighbor's house have had workers layering bricks on the cement barriers, and all sorts of other work. The event was a 3-day ordeal. Friday evening was the Bamiléké traditional dance where villagers not only got out their outfits, but also the animal skin, horns, the works! Most of the neighbors all gathered to see the event, especially the kids.

The next day, I was invited to the mass ceremony honoring the elders. When they told me mass, I thought they meant we'd all meet and then go to a church. But oh no, how wrong I was. They meant they'll bring the church to their gigantic courtyard - and they did. It was mighty impressive!

The makeshift church - pretty legit looking!

Church Choir was there - all pretty in... pink?

People like my neighbor makes me realize that people here have A LOT of money. However, the distribution of wealth is all off (kind of the case everywhere in the world, right?). My motor guy, Emmanuel, who is a part of the family, does not enjoy any of the wealth and he works all day on his moto and gain a measly pay.

Anyway, I attended the mass and then the big dinner afterward. It would have been fun to stay and dance with people, but with all the guests (more than 500), I was pretty lost among all the people I didn't know. So instead of sticking around, I retired to my house soon after dinner. This is when I really miss having a buffer. When Juliette was in village, we would go to things like this and hang out with each other while have a blast with villagers. Unfortunately without her, it's not quite the same, and doesn't feel as safe...

Last week I visited the schools that I am working with for the Books For Cameroon project to check on their progress. On the way back, my moto guy, Emmanuel, took me on a different path home, and I saw a new side of Batié that I have not seen even after a year here.

The day was gorgeous. The dry season has finally settled, but it's only the beginning, so not too hot. We rode through the rolling hills on his moto and the views are simply breathtaking. Photos absolutely do not do the view justice. I love and hate that because while I am so glad to be able to partake in this incredible nature, I hate not being able to share it in its entirety with others.

This past week, I was getting pretty fed up with life here. After 15 months, I've finally reached a point of "ugh this is enough". The novelty of living without running water and shotty electricity was fun and made good stories to tell - but after 15 months, enough is enough.

I am also tired of not having an active social life, and missing my material possessions, and well, just being with friends and loved ones who get me. Having the holiday season just around the corner certainly does not help. I am not unhappy, but something is certainly missing.

Chances are, this is simply my nomadic personality at work. I have very short attention span with anywhere that I live, so I could be living in London, New York, Paris, or Hong Kong, and I would probably be sick of where ever that I live. This is how I am, and while it's all too easy to blame it on Cameroon and its not-so-comfortable living standards, I must remember that I probably would have the same complaints elsewhere... je suis comme ça...

Being out and about and appreciating the nature certainly helps. I've taken up running in the past few months and I now really enjoy getting out there and take in the nature - likely the last time I will ever find myself living in such rustic beauty.

One of my favorite pastime back in the "real world" is to sit at a café alone and people watch. Also the same reason why I love airports. Strangers I do not know are very interesting to watch. Each possesses their own aura and have their individual stories. I can sit for hours watching people and capture their own ordinary life in that moment in time.

Here in Cameroon, I don't have such luxury as Starbucks or other cutesy outdoor cafés. But when I do go into Bafoussam for various errands, I always stop by El Campero - white people's favorite bar in Akwa. When I'm alone, this becomes the closest equivalent to an outdoor café. I usually order some brochettes and friend plantain, then sit with my bottle of coke and watch people pass.

There are always people walking around with items on their heads that they are trying to sell. We call this activity, "bar shopping". You sit at a bar, and when people pass, you browse at their items to see if there are anything interesting to buy. It ranges from food (peanuts, prunes, fruits, etc) to handbags, shoes, pirated DVDs, magazines, electronics - you name it, and there are probably someone who sells it. Sometimes if you are really looking for something specific, you can tell one vendor, and he/she will pass the words on to whomever selling the item you are looking for. Definitely one of the more amusing and rare bar activities.

Ghilain & moi on my Birthday this year

When I'm alone at El Campero, I'm pretty at ease. One of the ladies at the bar, Ghilain, is a good friend to all of us white people. When she's working, we always hang out and have a good chat. Since El Campero is the bar of choice for us, I often run into others while sitting there - Americans, French, etc. We always order food from the vendors around - salad shack, grilled fish, brochettes, friend plantains, etc. and then gather here. El Campero is a fun place and many a fun gathering have occurred at this very bar.

Two weekends ago, the Cameroon's national football (soccer) team was playing the final qualifying match against Morocco for the World Cup. The number one national sport in this country is drinking beer, and the second is watching football, while drinking beer. Naturally, this was a big deal.

I headed to Dschang to hand out with Clotilde, a French girl I know. Dschang is a really fun university town about an hour or so from me. Somehow I managed to spend 15 months in the west region of Cameroon and never made it out there, so on this day, I decided to finally pay a visit.

I arrived just in time for the match to begin. We crowded in a typical Cameroonian bar ready to watch the match on TV. I've mentioned before that while I am not a fan of football, I am a fan of watching guys watching football. And Cameroonian football fans are quite entertaining in their own special ways.

The game began, yet all you see on TV was the words: Cameroun # Maroc. And the broadcaster was relating the game in gibberish that supposedly was French. After a bit of confusion, I understood that apparently the Cameroonian national television (CRTV) did not purchase the rights of image broadcasting.

Now, imagine that. I was impressed on how calm people were. While they were disappointed, their reaction was more of a "on va faire comment?" (well what are you gonna do?) Imagine Superbowl Sunday with no image broadcasting? Serious riots would go down. I did thoroughly enjoy the comments from the men, "well, it's like in the 1960's when we had to crowd around the radio and then translate to people who didn't speak French." or "welcome to Cameroon, we have Radio on TV!"

Back in March, I eluded to the justice system in village, and the amusing ways that news get around. Last week, I was once again reminded just how things operate here, and how different it is from the justice system that we are so used to in the modern world.

Last Monday, on my way to Market Day, my moto guy pointed at the Gendarme car that was parked outside someone's house as we drove through. He asked if I heard the news, I said no. Apparently, the night before, a 18-year old chopped off the head of his 6 year-old brother with a machete, because someone told him the heads can get him a lot of money.

Friends, this is not a story you read in some African story book. This happened down the street from me.

I was pretty stunned by the news, but then quickly wrote it off as just another misfortune that often occurs in village. Few days later, I was on another moto, and I inquired what happened to the 18-year old. My moto friend Charlie, replied nonchalantly, "oh, we beat him until he died." Just like that. Almost as if how silly of me to even ask such question. What else would they do? Of course this kid was going to live another day after having done something like that.

This gives our death penalty debate in the U.S. a whole other perspective, huh? Yes, granted the crime committed here in Cameroon, especially in villages, are usually not very elaborate and not intricately planned to the point where advanced forensics are required to find out the offender. Yet, even if we know someone committed murder with 100% certainty, there is no way we would just "beat him until he dies" in the U.S., or most places in the modern world.

Few days later, I invited the new volunteers over for some American goodness (onion rings, ranch potatoes, salad) and one told me she heard the village story on BBC or some mainstream news. I was quite surprised. I mean, I suppose a kid getting his head chopped off is a pretty big deal. Julie told me that the news mentioned something about albino's and that there is some sort of sorcery relating to albino body parts. So later, I verified with another moto guy and he said no the kid was just a regular kid, not albino, but he was doing it for money.

Anyway, moral of the story - village justice is crazy business! Don't kill someone in a small village, because the villagers will beat you to death. And if you can't tell, moto guys are my primary source of village gossip! ahh, I will miss this sense of community, albeit crazy!

After months of incessant money begging via all the desperate measures that I could come up with using my only tool - the Internet, I somehow managed to raised $11,500, with the help of Kate, Siobhan and Laura. This is a special post to thank all of you that have helped me in one way or another throughout this process.

The begging began in July. Since I did not come from money, nor went to a school that had a lot of really rich people as friends, I had to beg strangers - a lot of them. I began by bugging people on Facebook and Twitter via my status updates. Then, I sent out press releases to local papers and journal in the St. Louis area where I spent the last 10 years of my life.

Desperation makes you do really crazy things. I wrote emails - countless number of them - first to personal friends and acquaintances, then to teachers of schools that I went to, organizations from my university, companies in the St. Louis area, etc. When those email didn't seem to yield the result that I was looking for, I began using social media tools, posting individual messages on 300+ members on CameroonVibes, individual messages on 500+ members who had committed to blog for the International Literacy Day, 600+ individual messages on my friends' Facebook wall, and thousands of individual messages on random RPCV's page on Peace Corps Connect, to the point of slight trouble.

All the effort became worthwhile when the project was fully funded on October 28th. Through it all, I came in contact with really supportive individuals that have offered their support in one way or another. Yesterday, I submitted our order form to Books For Africa for a shipment of 19,000 books and 7 computers. In addition, the Cameroon Studens Association is giving us 4,000 books. This leads to a total of 23,000 books that we will distribute to over 30 libraries across Cameroon. In the name of full disclosure, you can see how we will make this happen through a very colorful spreadsheet and flowchart. Okay, I really just wanted to share that!

Anyway, thank you all again for your immense support through the past few months! Please follow us on our Facebook page as the project progresses, and I'll try to be good about uploading pictures!

Yesterday, I sent off my graduate school applications to my European schools of choice. Today, I feel free for the first time in a while to think about updating this neglected blog. Even though I still have three more applications to sent for American schools, having done those three felt like a major step forward - this is really happening, the next step is not just a cloud of ideas in my head.

Recently, I've been in more frequent contact with those French friends who made my first three months at post such wonderful bliss. I've been thinking back upon those times a lot recently - they were carefree, exciting, and the connections I had with that particular group of friends were so immediate and intense that even a year later, the memories are still fresh in my mind. I thought perhaps I am feeling nostalgic because a year later, I am still in the same place, but with less magic happening in my daily life. However, in the past few weeks, conversations with Juliette and Gary proved that I am not the only one reminiscing that period in time.

With just a little over 8 months left of my service, I am at a strange place. Things on the work front are going relatively well. I have plenty of tasks to accomplish during my remaining time in this country. Socially, while I am no longer having fantastic parties or going on wild adventures, memories are still created via the daily village life. Some days are still lonely, and dull. But I am attempting my best to take in each present moment, and take it for what it's worth.

The future is fast approaching. I have applied or am applying to six graduate programs, three in the U.S. and three in Europe. If all these fine institutions accept me, I will have the opportunity to spend the next two years in either Paris, London, New York, Bologna/D.C. or New Have, CT. And let's all cross our fingers and pray at least one of these fine schools grants me acceptance, if for nothing else, that they take pity upon the fact I just spent two years living without running water. I've decided to take the "go big, or go home" route, and quite literally. None of my schools is a "back-up", so either I get in to one, or I go home and live with my parents in St. Louis... oh my god...

On this November day, I reminiscent this past year in Cameroon with nostalgia, appreciate life in the present with gratitude, and look forward to the future with great anticipation.