It’s been a few weeks since I’ve written anything and I do apologize. I don’t really have the “Oh, I don’t have access to internet more than once a month” excuse anymore. I’m writing this post without reviewing what I had already written about my new post, so sorry if I repeat myself, but I also don’t think I did justice to my new post in the last blog entry.

I’ve been in Meme for about one month now and feel pretty settled and definitely more settled and comfortable than I ever felt at my old post. The heat has been kicking my butt and my body is constantly reminding me that I’m not built for heat, so the first couple of weeks were rough, trying to stay hydrated and staying motivated to eat. And the fact that I moved to the new post at the beginning of the hot season only made things harder. My house is nice and tiny, with only two rooms, but no thought was given to good circulation, so it traps heat and only big gusts of wind bring any breeze in the house. When I checked the temperature of my bedroom at night a week ago, it was 100 degrees exactly; making me feel a little justified complaining about my house. As long as I can get through this hot season, I figure I’ll be set the rest of my service, because by next year’s hot season I’ll be used to the heat and constantly sweating.

Teaching is going well I think given the fact that I came in so late in the year. My first day teaching, the other English teacher took me aside and told me that I had to test my classes on the third and fourth terms, which confused me because I began teaching during the fifth term and there was no English teacher for my classes during those terms. When I told him that it’s impossible to test students who learned nothing in those terms, he suggested that I teach for a week and then test them and have that grade count for both terms. So I gave him an “are you kidding me?” face and told him that I won’t do that since you can’t teach anything well enough in a week to give a test over, but he didn’t seem to get it. I ignored him and negotiated with the principal to have three weeks of teaching before testing them, and I thought my test was a cake walk for them, but nope. In my youngest class, only 18 percent passed, the next class, 33 percent passed and in my oldest class, 56 percent passed. I’m still figuring out how to cater to all the levels of my students and sometimes feel clueless about how to teach my younger classes, when all I want to do is split the class into the group who knows basic English and those who know absolutely nothing and go from there. And since the end of the year is winding down, I don’t even know how many of the students will even come back to school after spring break. At least, I only feel that frustrated about one class. My other two classes are pretty good and engaged, especially my oldest class. It’s nice teaching them because I find it easier to be creative with them, as there are fewer of them, they’re more mature, and I can do complicated things with them.

The school itself is pretty good, with a competent, supportive administration. If I have trouble controlling some students, they’re really nice and helpful and are just so much nicer those at my other school. That being said, you can’t tell that corporal punishment is illegal in this country. And when you think it’s bad, it gets worse. But all it shows is how ineffective violence is as a punishment. Five of my male students were doing something to some of my female students, so they were whipped by the vice principal, and then he had them whip each other. The whole time, the boys were grimacing, but in between smacks, they would laugh. It certainly doesn’t seem like they learned any lesson, other than violence is okay and perpetuating violence even better.

On a happier note, the community is super and welcoming. I spend a lot of time hanging out with my neighbors and I actually like their kids. I really enjoy watching them play together because there’s a baby who’s about a year old and he really likes giving hugs to the little girl next door, who’s two. So he crawls over to her, stands up and walks a few unsteady steps with his arms open, falls onto her, and then she starts bawling. Then an adult pulls him off her, so the baby can do it again. The best part is that the little girl allows this to happen time and time again and does nothing to save herself. Needless to say, I am not the adult that pulls the baby off her; I am too busy laughing at the situation.

The kids in Meme are nice and always greet me on my way to and from school, saying “Bonjour Monsieur” or “Good morning, sir” and then there’s the girl who scolds them and tells them to call me madame or miss. It’s usually the kids who don’t go to school who refer to me as monsieur, although a lot of my students call me Mrs. Gloria or sir. Meh, what are you going to do? I’ve corrected them so many times with no success. I’m still happy them can say my name. Several people at my old post said the name Gloria was really hard to pronounce, so I don’t even know what they would have said about my last name.

Overall, I’m still really glad I switched posts and on my cranky days I have to remind myself things could be much worse and also tell myself that it’s the heat making me cranky and everything else is perfect. Even my open air pit latrine is nice. I can do stargazing while bathing, although I’m not sure how things will work during rainy season. I’ll think about that later, like after I get back from my visit home, which will be from May 15th to June 7th, for any of you interested.

Until next time!

I just wanted to give an update on my move to Meme. Let me begin by saying that I’m so much happier here than in Tignere. The community is really welcoming and I’ll probably be in shock by how nice people are here until I end up leaving. My neigbhors are very nice and helpful when I have questions and villagers in general are really helpful. I definitely feel like they want to help take care of me here. The village is pretty well populated with about 10,000 people, but it feels small to me. I think it’s because there are 4 stores, only one of which has bad, expensive toilet paper, there are no eggs, and mud houses kind of look the same to me. But even without my primary source of protein, I really like the place.

My school is run by an effective principal, who has been really great about helping me get settled in and helping get the things I need. Even my students are great. They actually want to learn, which is not something I’m used to. But the situation at my school is pretty dire, since the teacher’s college opened in January in the provincial capital, which lead to the exodus of a lot of teachers in the province, who wanted to take advantage of the first teacher’s college in the Grand North of Cameroon, but leaving a lot of students without teachers. At my school, they told me that there are 16 teachers, but I will say, I have yet to see any number of teachers that goes beyond 10. This week was my first teaching at school and besides Monday, I think there were around 4 teachers at school Tuesday and Wednesday, and then yesterday there were just 3 of us. I know many of them don’t live in the village, but commute from other towns, but the fact that there are 600 students and 3 or 4 teachers at school is really sad. One day this week I had a free period and one of my students came up to me and asked if I could teach the class. I was supposed to teach that class later that day, but those kids weren’t doing anything, so I took advantage of the fact that the teacher didn’t show up and taught. It worked out really well for me, because I was then able to go home before the heat started kicking my butt.

That’s another thing: teaching in the heat here takes stamina that I have yet to develop. If I have a class at 10:30am, I come in a classroom filled with 60 some kids and many of them are dripping with sweat. I at least get to move around, but yesterday I closed the door because I kicked out a third of my class and didn’t want them to disrupt my class, and all the students inside kept saying “the heat, madam, the heat.” Two minutes later, I opened the door and was hoping to be greeted by a breeze, which didn’t happen. By the time I get home, I’m pooped and just want to drink water for 15 minutes straight and think cool thoughts.

But teaching at my school for one week really got me thinking about how difficult it is for a student in Meme to learn. Not only are there hardly any teachers, but you have to sit in an overcrowded classroom, which probably doesn’t even have a real chalkboard. Most of the chalkboards I use are really pieces of wood painted black, meaning that when I write on the board, I can’t even tell what I’m writing, when standing 6 inches away, so it’s almost impossible to see sitting at the back of the classroom, but somehow the students manage. And then students have to tune out the other students who are talking and try to understand what I’m saying in English. Pretty tough stuff, but they’re still eager to learn, so now I’m thinking of ways to fundraise money to get electricity brought to the school and real chalkboards. (Ahem, donation, ahem)

Okay, I hope you enjoyed reading about me in Meme. I’m sure the next post will include a lot more complaints about the hot season. Until next time!

I made it back to Ngoundere this morning via train and let me say that every time you have any kind of frustration at the train station, it makes you that much grateful of how easy traveling in America is, sure there are constant flight delays, but NOTHING compared with the insanity of the trains in Cameroon. I have only taken the train from Yaounde to Ngoundere, since I live in the north and that is how most Cameroonians travel when going to the Grand North. What made it a headache yesterday is that I was traveling with 3 other PCVs and we were asked by several PCVs in the Grand North to bring packages up for them. Peace Corps tells PCVs to have mail sent to Yaounde even though take no effort to send mail to any posts, especially the Grand North. So when PCVs know someone going to Yaounde, they ask them to bring back packages and that’s fine, until you see all the packages together and realize it’s going to be a lot of sweating for Jesus to get those packages on the train. So we get to the train station and hire a porter to carry the really, really big bags full of packages, but when the Cameroonians working at the train station see the white people (I’m clumped in with the white people) carrying big stuff they make us go to another room so we can pay to bring the stuff on the train. We have my friend, Fleurange, do most of the talking since her French is best, but Bobby and I eventually are told that even the small packages we’re carrying have to be paid and then the two guys guarding the door won’t even let me in. I tell them I’m with the white people and they’re not believing me and I kind of wanted to point out my really bad French, which is usually proof enough, but one of the guards says “They didn’t tell me.” As if white people need to always mention there’s a black person in their entourage. Jerk. Eventually the other guard lets me through and I get to have my headache increase as they charge us more for carrying five medium and small boxes than for two really big bags. But since five is more than two, that makes sense by their logic, but if you look at quantity and weight, it makes no sense by my logic. By the time we get to our sleeper cars, the rooms with beds, since the train ride is at least 13 hours, we are covered in sweat and then the porter begins arguing that we haven’t paid him enough, although it was the price he agreed to at the beginning of this mess. After he went away, we stewed in our body heat, appreciating travel in America. The rest of the trip was fine though. The train got in early and we were able to have a great morning and take a well deserved nap. (I didn’t sleep well on the train, because a stranger tried to get in our room twice and I had a little motion sickness too.)

But don’t let this story make it seem like the time spent in Yaounde was the same, it was really great. I was able to see several people from my training group and I met a lot of new volunteers. I tried to limit my spending on yummy non-Cameroonian food, but when I see pizza, it’s hard to say no. We also had fun eating at a Chinese restaurant and things got even better when we realized we ate Aubrey’s meal, which we thought was a free gift for being such good customers. Moral of that story is don’t serve an entrée before you even bring out the appetizers. Am I right?

I also went to the 1500 store for the first time. I call it the 1500 store, because so many things are 1500 cfa, which is really $3, and there are soooo many American brand items. I bought a bunch of stuff that I would never glance at in the states, but was looking very delicious at the time. I also made a scene when I entered the store. I wasn’t expecting to see Honey Bunches of Oats or Special K. Granted they were really big boxes and cost $20, but just seeing it was enough for me to have a reaction. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I go back to the US. I might pee myself or cry. When shopping at another white man store, I came across a brand of dairy products called Gloria, which is swell for me, being lactose intolerant. The packaging was nice, at least.

I got a little more information about my new post, Meme, so that only increases the excitement of switching posts. And then I read a comment from my last blog post from a former PCV who was posted in Meme in the late 90’s who will be visiting in 2 weeks. How crazy is that? I’ll be super excited to meet her and also just the fact that I’ll be in a post people will WANT to visit is really exciting.

To finish this long blog out, I just wanted to give a shout out to Erin, whose package I got today! Thanks Erin! We’ll see how long those snickers exist outside my belly and I really enjoyed the letter that spanned a 6 month period. It was so funny I started reading parts aloud for my friend. Thanks again!

Until next time!

So this past week has been one of the most enjoyable for a really long time. Why, you ask? Because I left Tignere! I tried not to smile too much when I was leaving and told all the people I didn't like that the Peace Corps transferred me to another school, which is something they would understand since teachers work for the Cameroonian government and get transferred to different school often. The peopel I like, I told that I didn't like Tignere, which most of them knew, and that if they come to the Extreme North province, they're more than welcome to visit. So really, I told that to five people. And those five were really supportive of my switching posts, but of course, the people who didn't talk to me that much were the ones who seemed sad that I was moving. When I saw their reactions I kinda wanted to remind them that they weren't particular friendly and if everyone likes me that much, they did a really crappy job of showing it.

At my school, I told Form 1, which is my younger class, that I was leaving because I came to Cameroon to teach students that wanted to learn English and their low attendance and poor behavior proved to me that they didn't want to learn English. So in the end, I told them, "This is the consequence of your actions. Any questions?" I really enjoyed making them feel guilty. But I wasn't able to tell Form 2 that I was leaving, because of the way class ended and they really annoyed me, as well as the administration, who managed to remind me why I was leaving the school in my last 10 minutes on my last day. So I just left the school. I think I felt the same way Martha Stewart felt when she left prison.

Now that I'm out of purgatory/Tignere, I really think I'm only going to miss three things: 1-my friend, Youseufa, who kept me sane while I was there 2-jogging in the savannah 3-the sweet rolls, I made really good French toast with those.

My new post is called Meme, but I'm not sure if I'm even spelling it correctly. All Peace Corps told me is that it's in the Extreme North and the name of the village. The rest of the information that I got is from PCVs. I've been told that it's 15 minutes from the post of two PCVs who were in my training group and that it's 40 minutes from the provincial capital, Maroua, which means more access to internet and other people I like. I'm really excited to get to go there, even though, I would have preferred staying in Adamoua, but what can you do? Stay in purgatory? The only thing I'm worried about is the heat. It gets to be 120 degrees in March and April. Not looking forward to it, but at least I get to buy a fridge, which I plan on trying to contort myself so that I can sleep in it on those hot nights. We'll see. I'm not too flexible now, so I should begin working on it.

Hanging out with friends has been realy great, and I didn't realize how unhappy I was in Tignere until I moved and now have no reason to dread returning there. But at least I've learned a lot about myself, so it's not like these last 5 months have been wasted, as well as Cameroon, even if a lot of it has been more negative than positive. At least I can say that my Form 1 students know how and when to use capital ltters and periods, even if they don't actually use them. Better than nothing!

This is an apology blog entry to those of you who were reading my blog and then stopped because I stopped writing. The reason I stopped writing is because I really didn’t like my post and didn’t know what to write that wouldn’t sound super bitter and mean. But now I can be honest since I’M CHANGING POSTS! Yea! This means that I can start writing on my blog again since I will no longer be filled with unhappy thoughts about my future post. Or at least as many unhappy thoughts as I have about my current post. I’m still not sure where my new post is going to be, but I requested that I remain in the Adamoua province, so hopefully I can stay near all the PCVs in the area who have been really great and supportive.

To summarize the experience of my post since September: the school is “bilingual,” in that there are the Anglophone and francophone sections. But in reality the Anglophones are mostly francophones whose parents just want them in the Anglophone section as a status symbol. And let me tell you, those parents really do brag if their kid is in the Anglophone section, REGARDLESS of whether he or she actually knows English, which almost all the anglophone students don’t. As a TEFL PCV, I am supposed to be teaching francophones English, but my school administration thought it would be best to put me in the Anglophone section to teach English language and English literature. And don’t think that teaching lit is fun. It. Is. Painful. To. Teach. Imagine, if you will, that you have to teach “Journey to the Center of the Earth” to students who can barely form sentences in English. Also, imagine that none of them actually own the book. So teaching is me standing in front of class reading the story, having them take turns to read it, asking them questions about the story and when they don’t know, I write the entire story on the board and they copy it down. So English lit equals story time. And don’t even think of asking them questions that require independent or abstract thought of any kind. They just say, “Madame?” and look super confused. So that’s what half my teaching hours consist of.

But in addition to the stupid Anglophone section at the school, the administration is also a joke. I am at school more often than the principal from what I can tell. The two vice principals are not good at doing much, although I do like the francophone vp more after I cried at school and she gave me tissues. But then she told me that my girls’ club idea would be considered discrimination and that took points away from her.

Also, the community of Tignere is not one I would recommend, unless you like cold women and men that look at you like a piece of meat. That’s all I’ll say about that. I feel this is stirring up the bitterness of my post.

Okay, so the point is, I want to say that I will be posting more often now since I won’t be miserable anymore and would encourage people to read. Thanks!

I've been at post now for about a month and a half and to celebrate, I left post! But I really did need a break from my post, since I'm now in the midst of some major culture shock. A weekend away was in order, seeing that I haven't seen any Americans in a month and also realized that since the seasons are changing, I won't be able to buy much food at post. Mostly yams and greens and you can only do so much with those.

Life at post the last month has been pretty difficult. I think it's been especially hard since I have no PCVs nearby to explain the many subtle rules of my village and it's really difficult for me to ask people there, since they can't see their culture from a foreigner's perspective. And being a woman living alone in a Muslim culture gets me a lot of negative attention from guys, so that's been really hard and annoying to deal with. Don't even get me started on my school.

Okay, so since I am going through culture shock, I honestly don't want to write that much today, since it might well be negative and I know that it's not really fair. But just for those who are interested in knowing how I'm doing, I am surviving, and will continue to keep a positive attitude until this difficult stage blows over.

Oh, but my electricity did come back the last week of September!

Okay, so I've been at post now for about three weeks, or something like that. I've moved all the big stuff in but am still living out of my suitcases since it's been difficult to find someone to make furniture for me who won't try to up to the price.

My house is nice and small. I had a major problem with cockroaches when I moved in, it really was Roachfest 2008 my house, but used my detective skills to find out where they were coming from and stuffed the holes. So before I came to Ngoundere, I hadn't seen any for two days, but who knows what will be the case when I get back. My kitchen is pretty scary. There is no light in the kitchen, or at least there would be light, if there was electricity in my town, but the power has been out since day three of my arrival and I have no hopes of it returning soon. The kitchen is creepy because there aren't any windows that actually let in light, there is a window, but it faces a concrete wall, so the only light it gets is from my candles. I think if a Cameroonian film director wanted to make Blair Witch Cameroon, I would offer my kitchen, it would give kids some nightmares, especially if the cockroaches came back. But I did see a plastic floor cover that I'm probably going to buy to help reflect light in the kitchen and tone down the overall creepiness. Once I get furniture, I'll actually be able to feel like it's mine and not be embarrassed when someone stops by, because now I just put everything on the floor. Meh.

School started this week in Cameroon, so I went to school on Monday as a good teacher does, only to see that there were about 4 other teachers there and 10 students. So I stuck around for 5 hours, assuming there would be a meeting or that I would be given some basic information, like what I would actually be teaching, but no. When I asked the vice principal what I would be teaching, she just gave me the classes of the PCV who was there before me and then when I asked her for a copy of the book I would be teaching from, she said I would get it later. Mmmmkay. I did meet the other English teacher, who filled me in on the nature of the school and what kind of stamina I need to survive. He really seems to be the most motivated person I've met from the school so far, and he helped me get some furniture for a good price, so more points for him.

The days after that I just went to school with very little goals, such as asking for the books and to meet the principal, who just seems to smile and shake hands, but no do that much that helpful at least. So with very little progress, this is what I learned this week: I will be teaching the Anglophone students, which is only 23 students in a school of 700. I'll be teaching them English and English Literature, so that might actually be interesting and the fact that I'm teaching so few people means I might be able to make a difference. I learned that the school administration must have forgotten school was starting, since they didn't think to get books for teachers before school started, hence, sending me to buy the books. They also seem to not really mind the fact that not many teachers have shown up the first week or that no one has taught. This might be a frustrating situation to deal with on a continual basis, but I was informed that this is what Cameroonian schools can be like.

So now, I'm just preparing to teach those 23 kids of English and Lit and hope that things go well. I'm also hoping to get electricity back. And I'm also hoping my back stops hurting after bending over my well for an hour getting water. And I'm hoping the cd player I bought will actually work so I can listen to music at post, because singing to yourself gets old after two weeks.

I would like to thank everyone in advance for all the letters and packages they've sent to me. Being in Onionville, which is what I now call the village where I'm posted, will be difficult, but eating the snickers that come weekly will really help me get through all those hard times.

My new address is: Gloria Twesigye, Peace Corps Volunteer

B.P. 567

Ngoundere, Cameroon

My other address is still good, but this new one is much closer to me. Thanks, once again, to all my fans for their love, support, and snickers.

I'm a Peace Corps Volunteer!!!! The ceremony was on Friday and it was super fun. We all looked good in our matching pagne. I gave a speech in Fulfulde that no one understood, except when I said "Welcome!" and "Thank you!" But the ceremony was kind of funny because as soon as we said the oath, the ceremony became about everyone else in Bangante except for the newly sworn in PCVs, so that's when we started talking and looking for a place to pee.

And in case you're looking at the pic above, I did take out my braids and wanted to post a pic of me halfway through the process. Tess told me I look like Milli Vallnili.

So now I'm back in Yaounde, on route to post. It's been sad to say good bye to people to friends, but at the same time, it's like Camp Peace Corps is over and the real work is about to begin. So tonight I get to take the train with 15 other PCVs and hopefully this time we get the rooms with beds and don't have any of the horror that is first class. It's called first class, but really that's code for being in a room where the toliet is 5 feet away and reeks.

I'm still nervous about getting to post since the roads are so bad and I was told it's been raining more in the province where I'm going, making more mud, making the journey even worse. I'm going to be selfish and also wish that I get electricy more often than not, and also hope that the well water keeps on coming. I was given a book from the girl who was at my post before me, who said that there were times where there wasn't even any well water, which I thought was a little strange, and then suggested that I get water from the school where I'll be working. So now I'm thinking that in a few months I'll be riding my bike with two buckets of water, trying not to teetor off and not to splash all the water out of the buckets. It makes me laugh now, but in a few months, maybe not so much laughter about the situation.

Here's a picture of some of the girls that are in the education program. We look good.

And here's a pic of some of the guys in the education program. I think they look like they're in a boy band with Gabe as the lead singer.

And last, here's me and Lisa in the pagne that we wore to the swearing-in ceremony. Lisa's host mom made them and pretty much our dresses were the same. We look good.

Just as a parting note, I might not have access to internet in the next couple of months, so feel free to send me letters or call me. I will be looking forward to ANY communication. A la prochaine!

Elyse and I. She's one of my favorites.

Joe and Connie.

PCVs playing football.

Here's a view of Bangante from the football field.

Carol, Siobhan, and Kat.

Me and Tess with our braids. Looking good.

Joe and Lisa. They're so silly.

David and Wendy.

David and Allen. Most of the guys in my training group grew mustaches. So imagine Allen with a thick mustashe. That's right, he looks like Tom Silleck.

David and Ehab, with their awesome pagne (traditional Cameroonian fabric).

This is Yaounde, the capital of Cameroon, before a storm.

This is Bangante with a rainbow smiling down on it.

Joe, Nik, and Carol

Me and Jim. Note the braids.

So the first thing we did this morning was go to a bank, where I thought we were going to wire money the banks closest to our posts. No, instead they give us about $2000 in cash and say, "Have a good day!" Meanwhile, I'm very grateful that I brought my money pouch to wear under my clothes. But who thought it was a good idea to give 36 Peace Corps trainees $2000 each and make them go out in public to get jumped. Yeah....hmmmmm. So it looks like I'm bloated, but really I just have beaucoup d'argent.

I thought I should write a follow up to what I had written for the previous blog about the visit to the Chief’s house in Bangante. A day or two after visiting the palace, I had a conversation with other PCVs about what we saw and thought of the whole thing. The overall consensus was that we were all conflicted about what to think. On the one hand, it’s very important to preserve a culture’s traditions and values, but on the other hand, it seemed that what traditional elements of culture that we saw on Sunday seemed to only exploit the idea.

My biggest issue with what the chief said was that when describing what he does for the community, he claimed to work as an intermediary between the community and the government. From what I’ve heard by talking with my host mom and other PCVs who’ve talked with their host families is that the chief isn’t actually accessible, and if your community can’t talk to you, then what real purpose are you serving? He also claimed to keep in contact with people from Bangante who live abroad. Ummmmm…okay…I guess what bothered me is that for all the pomp of the meeting, with the guards, clutching their swords as if a PCV were going to assault the chief and the fact that the chief refused to speak English, is that he doesn’t use his position to actually do much.

It would make more sense to me, not only to help your community, but to maybe give your position more legitimacy, to run for office and represent yourself and Bangante in a way that will really promote change. Hiding in the Sacred Forest and living off of gifts given from visitors doesn’t seem to be any qualities of leadership, but that’s just one person’s opinion.

I'm so ready to get a move on to post! Right now I'm in the capital, Yaounde, to do banking and other final stuff before moving. Then on Friday is the swearing in ceremony and then next Saturday is the big day!

Okay, not gonna lie, I'm also very tired of some people and think it would be best if I didn't see them everyday so as to like them by the end of two years. Grrrr...had to complain.

Now the only stuff I'm concentrating on is being with my friends, whom I'll miss when I'm at post and getting some good food now that I'm in a big city. Ohhhh yes.....

So this weekend has been full of cultural excursions for me. On Saturday, I went to Fouban to see the museum at the palace. There were other PCVs going to do research for a presentation and I went to get out of Bangante and also because I haven’t had too many opportunities to see art and traditional artifacts in Cameroon. Getting to Fouban was fine. I was super impressed by the paved road to Fouban. It makes me think to write a letter to whichever minister of government is in charge of roads to insist on a paved road to my post. Anyway, so I guess the palace at Fouban is a well known tourist attraction and there were other white people there, so I got confused just seeing them. We got a personal tour of the museum and the man who gave us the tour insisted that we meet with the director of the museum so we can ask him more questions. We didn’t really have any questions, so when we meet him, there was some awkward silence. But Thryn was smart enough to ask questions about the significance of the colors used. The directors explains that red means blood and war, green is fertility and the environment, while is honesty or wisdom, but blue, blue is there for decoration. I think he said, “Things are nice with some blue on them.” Okay….blue = pretty. When we came in the museum, we saw a hippo head, that didn’t look that old, since it still had most of the skin on it. So Allen asked him how old the hippo head was. The director then tells us he remembers seeing it alive and that the hippo was terrorizing the people of the village so they wanted to have it killed. They had to get special permission from the king, who also requires that once you kill the hippo, you have to carry it back to the palace so the royal court can eat it. We asked if the director ate some and he said that he had and that hippo meat is different colors and tastes like different meats. And then he says, “Why? Would you like to try some?” But before we can say anything he got called away. If he had offered it, I totally would have eaten some hippo meat, just to tell people I had eaten hippo jerky. So we had a good laugh at the idea of eating hippo jerky. On Sunday, I got another dose of culture by visiting the Chief of Bangante, who lives in the “Secret Forest.” Once we get there, we’re given a tour of the living room area, which has all the pictures. This is where we found out that if you kill a leopard and bring it to the chief, he’ll give you a wife. Too bad leopards haven’t been spotted in Bangante for awhile. We then have a meeting with the chief who refuses to speak in English, so he has everything he says translated. But the man knows his English, having gone to school in England, he just likes to have things translated, but if it’s not translated in the way he likes, he corrects the translator. Kinda funny/pointless, but protocol is protocol. So after we bow and introduce ourselves, we asked him some questions. My favorite were how many wives and children do you have, to which he responded, “I have about 60 kids and about 20 wives.” He doesn’t seem to know who his family is, which can lead to paternity issues that can only be resolved on the Cameroonian version of “Maury.” But then he sponsored a super tasty lunch, which was accompanied with lots of booze. I took a beer to go. Who can start boozing at noon on a Sunday? Cameroonians can.

For real. The rain never stops here and recently it has been raining for 10 hours straight. And the mud gets all over everything. No fun. But I only have another month to deal with Bangante mud and then I will move on to a place with more sand.

Not much has changed, besides the rain and me realizing that one sweater is too few so I freeze both during the day and night. Ohhhhh welllllllll. I got my first package today from the sister that likes me (Yes, I said it. That should start a competition for all my sisters to send packages in a frenzy. That would be the appropriate response.) So now I*m super happy with my magazinzes to use for reading enjoyment as well as a blanket during the cold Bangante nights.

I got the rest of my clothing made today and am not very satisfied. The one dress made me look like a linebacker and the shirt I got had a fugly collar on it. And when I said I didn*t like it, the seamstress said "It is the African way." Well, sorry but ugly is not the Gloria way, but I am stuck with it. I decided at post, I will be getting a sewing machine to keep me company, so I can take it apart then.

Teaching is going well, but I did have to yell at my class today when they were super disrespectful; And then, while I*m yelling, the girl I*m standing over has the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her and start talking. So then I look dead at her, raise my voice even louder and say, "Are you really talking while your teaching is saying how rude and disrespectful it is to talk while your teacher is talking?" It shut her up, but I think it was mostly because I was yelling in a foreign language more than anything. Really I should yell at them in German to scare the crap out of them. So Gloria with the angry eyebrows came out and it wasn*t pretty. But the class was good after that.

Mmmmmkay, that*s it for now. Sorry I had to use the star instead of an apostrophe. The key isn*t working on this keyboard.

A la prochaine! Until next time!

All is good with me! I ate some passion fruit today, spaghetti omelette, and bought stuff. What more could I do today? Teaching this week was good too; Kind of a surprise, but a good one. I don't really have much to say except that I'm having a good day. And that's good because I have 3 minutes left of internet on this computer! Till next time!

Things are going well with me. I just got to visit my post, which is where I'll be living for the next two years. It's pretty freaking remote, and the bus ride from the nearst city can take 3 hours if the roads are dry and then 6 if there's mud. I also saw some taxi buses that were overturned bc the mud on these roads is so bad. So that freaked me out a little. But once I got to the town, which is called Tignere, it's really pretty and is surrounded by hills. My house is 1 bedroom, with a kitchen, living room, and bathroom. There's no water, but a well I'll have to use. Electricity runs all day except between 6pm and 10pm, so I'll have to buy lots of candles. My neighbors seem nice and I live in a compound which I think will have benefits and disadvantages, but at least it will definetely be safer than living out in the open. The school where I'll be working seems fine, the principal is really nice and I met some other teachers who were really nice too, so I think that will be okay. I just didn't see many women in my town, which I figured means that they stay at home, since it's a Muslim culture, or they're working in the field, while the men sit around. But the city where I'm in now seems soooooooooo fancy, which hot showers and internet cafes and real bakeries. I'm already so appreciative for little things. AND yesterday I found a place that sells snickers! I was squealing in the store, I was so excited. I never thought I would see one in Africa unless it was in the hands of an American, but I found my new favorite store in Ngoundere, which the provincial capital for the region where I'll be living. So today I get to ride the overnight train for 13 hours back to the captial, so I can take a 4 hour busride back to Bangante, the town where the PC training is. But the worst traveling is for sure the road between Tignere and Ngoundere, where I ride old prision buses crammed with 30 Cameroonians and because the roads are so bad it's like going to an amusement park and riding the oldest, jankiest, roller coaster for hours. Fun fun.

Overall, I do that living in Tignere will be fine, as long as I can come back to Ngoundere to soak up the life of fast cars and running water on a regular basis. We shall see......

Okay so let me update you all on what’s going on with me. Now I’m living in a town in the west, called Baganté, which is a nice town, except that it’s the rainy season and the mud here is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I never thought I would have to deal with scraping off ¾ of an inch of mud off my shoes on a regular basis, but so it goes. And when there’s been a really heavy downpour it makes me feel really isolated since you don’t even want to leave whatever building you’re in, let alone walk to town and use the internet. This week will be my third in Baganté and I think that now I’m becoming more comfortable being here. I don’t mind going to down and doing haggling on my own now. Before, I would take one of the PCVs helping with training with me so she could translate for me, but now I can actually haggle for myself. And I’m feeling pretty good at it. I got some flipflops with the Cameroonian flag on them for $2, so that’s been my latest haggling achievement, but there will be plenty more to come. My host family is okay so far. My host mom is super cool and dyes fabric, which is super impressive, but she’s really busy so I don’t get to talk to her a bunch. My host dad could be much less condescending, but I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon, so at this point I try not to have too many conversations with him. Besides, he talks at him and not with me, so I end up doing a lot of nodding and not much talking. There are three kids, two boys, Livingston and Stefan, and a girl, Ester. I haven’t seen the boys for two weeks, they’re at their grandparents’ since most likely the grandfather is going to die soon. (There are a surprising number of deaths in Cameroon. It’s one thing to hear the statistics, but another to know of a lot of funerals going on all the time. My host mom is out of town right now, because her uncle died last week.) Anyway, the boys seem cool, but I haven’t really gotten to know them since they’ve been gone pretty much the whole, but Ester is another story. She is a clingy little girl, who just discovered I have a laptop and now wants to play with it, but seeing how brutal she is with my watch and pencils, there’s no way that’s going to happen. And I’m super bitter as I write now since I had to baby-sit her unexpectedly for 3 hours this morning, and the girl would not sit down and concentrate on anything. She also laughs when I speak French. So there have been many points taken away from her. So far PC training has been decent. The sessions can seem pretty long, and we do get a lot on the theory of teaching, which is not particularly helpful, so right now my thoughts are that regardless of the training we receive we’ll still end up feeling very unprepared. All the schools will be so different that there’s no way we can totally prepare ourselves for everything, so right now I’m telling myself to expect the worse so as to not have many disappointments. It really isn’t pessimistic, just realistic. Here are some of the things I really enjoy the most about Cameroon thus far: -When you pass by people on the street, they can look at you in a grumpy way, but as soon as you say “Bonjour!,” they get really happy. -Spaghetti omelettes. I know it sounds really weird, but they are really good at the restaurant with the white curtain. -I really like buying fabric and then getting clothes made for $3. -Football. -The gingerale. Very gingery. -Mangoes, passion fruit, pineapple, other delicious fruits The things I don’t like/don’t understand: -Watching the guy at the restaurant with the white curtain make a spaghetti combo using spaghetti, avocadoes, tomatoes, mayonnaise, and sweetened condensed milk. I get gas thinking about it. -Frequent power outages, particularly the one that lasted the entire span of the final Euro Cup game so I got to watch exactly none of it. -Mud -Roosters -I confused as to why so many Cameroonians have dogs when they seem to hate them, beat them, and not mention that many dogs have rabies.

That's it for now!!!!!

I can't believe it's been a week since I left the US. Tons has happened obviously, but I'm going to give a quick recap since I have to leave the Peace Corps training site soon. So first was Philadelphia where I met all the other PCVs, who are all very nice. I was kinda surprised when it turned out that I liked everyone, but if you're spending 27 months with them, I guess that's a good thing. After all the orientation in Philadelphia, we flew to Cameroon and when we landed, everything at the airport looked a lot like Uganda. The atmosphere, smell, and unorganization I guess might be some characteristics of African airports, but I shouldn't generalize. That's what jerks do.

So now that I've been in the capital, Yaounde for about 5 days, the things I've noticed are: beer is more popular than water, cold water is harder to find than cold beer, the dresses the women wear are super cute, Cameroonians are probably lacking in protein and are very constipated. This is just based on the food we've eaten at the hotel.

Also, since food is being mentioned, the big d (diarrhea) is now prevalent in the group and people are dropping like poop-filled flies. Pepto is now becoming everyone's best friend.

Anyway, tomorrow we leave for another town, Bagante, which is where I'll be living for the next three months. I'm really looking forward to living with Cameroonians and on another note, I'm also ready for some time away from Americans. Not gonna lie.

Okay, well time is running out, so I will continue this later!

So tomorrow I'm finally leaving for Cameroon. Well , I'm actually going to be spending three days in Philadelphia and from there fly to Paris and then to Cameroon. Everything is packed after me and my mom staying up until 1 am to repack one of my suitcases only to have my repack it today. And then to be super sure that I could actually carry it all I wanted to practice walking outside, but it's been raining on and off. I'm kind of hoping that we won't be getting too much stuff in Philadelphia since my carry on bags are pretty much brimming. Between the laptop bag and my backpack, I'll be carrying 50 lbs, not to mention that even though I've repacked my suitcases I'm still over the weight allowance by 10 lbs. BUT the way I think about the whole thing is that the one suitcase weighs 15 lbs on its own, so reallllly I'm under by 5 lbs if you don't count the weight of the suitcase. Yep.

Beyond packing, I'm feeling pretty calm about everything, but I'm sure I'll feel that way until I'm at the airport saying goodbye to my family. I'm sure by the end of tomorrow, I'll be feeling mentally and physically exhausted. Maybe they'll have government sponsored massages at the staging in Philadelphia. That would be good use of tax dollars.

If there are any of you out there who would like a letter or address you can go ahead and give it me. There's still plenty of space in my address book. And if anyone is interested in writing me a letter my address is:

Gloria Twesigye, Peace Corps Volunteer

Corps de la Paix

B.P. 215

Yaounde, Cameroon

Oh, and for all you out there who will be sending me packages filled with books and snickers, I've heard that besides it being very expensive to send packages to Cameroon, it would be good to put something about Jesus on the package to ensure no one will thug it. You'd look like a bad person if you took a package that had "Jesus saves!" scrawled all about it.

That's it for now! The next time you'll hear from me I'll be in Cameroon! (Or maybe Philadelphia, we'll see.)

So this is me blogging. My only reason for the blog is to help keep in contact with my friends and family while I am in Cameroon as a Peace Corps Volunteer, where I will be teaching English and promoting HIV awareness. Seeing that I have only one week to go, I am feeling pretty excited and anxious about it, to the point that I wake up with a list of stuff I need to do before I go. And I know I should just write everything down, but now that I'm packing, my room is a mess, so I keep losing my lists. Oops.

Okay now I have to go meet a friend for dinner. One of those "let's me up for the last time since we don't know when we'll be on the same continent again" meals. But really I just wanted to see how I would fair at blogging, so sorry if you expected a diatribe about myself and my inner thoughts, but right now I've got food on my mind and need to go.

Until next time.....