Well...life. Sometimes its never what we think its going to or should be. No news in this case is not good news. For purposes of this blog, the news I can share is that the grad school search is over. The grad school search is over, but the international world tour continues(your 0% shocked i'm sure). Batouri, Cameroon to Oxford, England! In a few months I will be a resident there pursuing a masters degree in disaster relief.

So there might not be much to write about, but here are some other photos from my second year and most recently.

Mama Wali breaking it down!

Showing off my Michael Jackson moves.

The luxurious hotel accommodations of Batouri, Cameroon.

Parental picture with my Cameroonian host family :)

Outside my bank.

Thanksgiving with the parents, peace corps volunteers, and Ed was able to join for a bit as well. Here we are dining on the veranda of his house in Batouri. Also, this is where I usually sit when I go for internet.

Eastern Cameroon is definitely the adventure of a lifetime.

Termites are included on the list of good protein sources here. They eat everything. Jessica, the more adventurous eater between us, had a go at venturing into the insect group. She bought some caterpillars at the market and fried some up to try. Who knew they were kind of hollow inside?

Ah, you know me and meat. It's only a tease.

Muslim holidays = eating, eating, eating. Probably our sixth meal that day. Jessica and I by the end of the day were so full that if any of our hosts left the room we started stuffing food into plastic bags we had hidden in our purses to make it look like we had been eating!

Peace Corps Volunteers: one for all and all for one. Living as a volunteer can be a crazy experience, but proud to be one nonetheless.

The hazards of having to travel on an unpaved road. Here I arriving home and sporting my after-travel look.

Celebrating my birthday with Julia!

The Canadian within me.

My sweet Grandma, who came down from Canada to be with us.

Fun night at Karaoke.

I am blessed with great friends :D

When seeing this photo, can't help thinking of all the fond memories of summers spent growing up on grandpa's farm in Northeastern Montana. Always believing there is a song for everything in life, found the perfect ones to describe this in the songs of John Denver - "Take Me Home Country Roads" and "Wild Montana Skies." Very fitting indeed. Part of my ♥ will always be here.

And then the parents came to Africa!

I remember when they were ready to purchase tickets as soon as I came to Cameroon to arrive for New Years only seven months later. Thats when we decided on London instead. Upon my insistence they waited to come. I told them many times over visiting towards the end of my service would be beneficial to us both. Me more established in every way, which in turn would help make their trip more enjoyable. Well as my service is fast approaching its close and almost being able to count the remainder of months on one hand, my parents did express after visiting me how they now understand why I made them wait. I can't encapsulate their decision to wait and my place/mentality/growth at post any other way then these two pictures.

Here is what they would have found...

but now is much more improved.

And now their visit in their own words (any added thoughts I have will be italicized)...

As Janelle promised, here is a blogpost from her parents following our trip to Cameroon.

We arrived in Yaounde on Nov 20. We did not rent a car, but Janelle hired a private driver for the duration of our stay. We were quite thankful for three reasons: 1) The only traffic law that we could observe was that cars drove on the right-hand side of the road. Other than that, it seemed that it was a free-for-all as respects how you got around, either on the road or in town. If there was room for your car to fit into a space, then you took that space. You just made a lane for yourself if that got you ahead. 2) the unpaved roads are horrible! There is no road maintenance and the ruts are deep, and 3) the busses are amazing for how many people are packed into a bus (three people in a two-person seat), and all the belongings are strapped to the top.

Welcome to Eastern Cameroon Parents! 10 K out of Batouri and they chanced upon their very own logging accident. The truck didn't gain enough momentum going up the hill. Where you see the car coming out is where our own car passed through moments later.

The bus company in Batouri full of "prison buses"

The first day of our visit we visited the Peace Corps office, meeting some of the staff and some volunteers who happened to be there. It is clear the staff take good care of the volunteers! While in Yaounde we stayed at the home of the Director of the British Council and his wife. Janelle made friends with them during the Embassy party this past summer. We spent that afternoon buying fabric to make clothes. We were impressed to see how noticeably improved Janelle's french has become when she was discussing prices. Even the Cameroonian friend showing us around Yaounde remarked how she was better than him at haggling!

The next day we headed to Janelle’s post in Batouri. This is in the eastern part of the country.

We spent four days in Batouri. The first day there we went with Janelle to her malnutrition project. Babies were weighed, arm circumference measurements taken, and some powdered meal prepared to send with the mothers. Some mothers were quite young, we figure perhaps 14 or 15. Janelle tried to ask their age, but their response was they didn’t know. Another mother’s child found a large beetle, so she took it home after breaking off the legs to feed her child there. Janelle shared that these beetles are commonly found in the market.

The following day we met everybody at the bank where Janelle has her official Peace Corps job. We dined at the accountant Abdoulaye's home that evening, sitting on the floor. Janelle shared this is something she does quite often in the evenings.

We were guests-of-honor for a celebration organized specifically for our visit one afternoon at the Batouri orphanage where Janelle has spent time with the children. They were quite excited to show us their living area and we spent time dancing with the kids. It was very touching to us both. They had also prepared some short theater sketches for us. Janelle did some english revision with them and we all sang as she led out in teaching them the hokey-pokey. A journalist was there to take pictures, who also interviewed us for the radio about our impressions.

We were excited to have a english nun, another anglophone, come to Batouri! In August, another nun approached me and informed me of her recent arrival and thought she would appreciate the visit. It was a blessing to us both. She shared then she had recently prayed she would like to speak english with somebody and I was not in any place to refuse the company!

We dined on local foods during the day, which appears to be a choice between washed leaves (bitter unless washed very well), legumes, rice, potatoes, plantains and fish. Janelle prepared the evening meals at her home.

Another of Janelle’s projects is to work in a joint effort with the World Food Program with some refugees from the Central African Republic. So Janelle took us into the bush about an hour’s drive from Batouri to meet with the refugees one morning. She discussed in length with them about the organization of a savings group she is starting with them. She spoke in french and her french was translated into fulfulde. During the meeting, men sat on one side and women the other. At the conclusion of this visit, one of the older refugees attempted a marriage proposal for Janelle since her parents were there to bargain with!

After those four days in Batouri, it was back to Yaounde for an overnight stay. We got into a small vehicular accident on the way, where our car sideswiped a van. No real damage was done, but it was interesting to observe the reactions of everyone. All the occupants in the van got out, as well as the five of us in our car. We were told by Janelle and the other PCV in the car with us that this was a typical reaction from Francophones. Everybody talks with big gestures, has something to say, and will say it to anybody listening. Once everyone had their say, we all got back into our respective vehicles and continued on our way. After Yaounde we were on our way to Bafia to meet her “host family.” This is the family she lived with the three months of her Peace Corps training period. We enjoyed more plantains there, spaghetti omletes, and being taken to some of their family where, since we lacked french, entertained ourselves with the children. That night we stayed in a local hotel. There was no water during our stay at the hotel.

The following day we were on the road again, this time to Buea, in the western part of the country. We stayed with Bill and Trixy, who Dawn knew from Loma Linda, CA and who Janelle has made friends with. It appears that this couple is also well known among the Peace Corps. We took a couple of hours one afternoon to the beach town of Limbe so Janelle could show us the black sand beaches. It was very picturesque with Mount Cameroon in the background and the water there was very warm. We enjoyed lunch at the local Wildlife Center where we could eat seated with a view of gorillas.

After a two-night stay in Buea, we drove back to Yaounde to meet the Peace Corps country director. The director was unavailable during our first visit to the Peace Corps office, so this was our chance to meet her. The following day, which was the last day there, we attended a ceremony at the Peace Corps headquarters where the end of service of some of the volunteers is acknowledged. Then off to the airport that evening for our flight home.

We flew on Swiss Airlines through Zurich to get to Cameroon. When we boarded the plane in Zurich on the return flight we noticed a flight attendant who was on our outbound Swiss flight on the 18th. Amazingly, when we passed by him, he told us that he remembered us from the flight two weeks ago! Go figure…

Janelle is doing an awesome work as a Peace Corps Volunteer. She has gone beyond the expected to find projects that help improve the lives of the local population. It was quite impressive to see her influence in the community.

Was very touched to receive this in an email a few days later when they shared with me their impressions of their visit...

We shared with grandpa and grandma that people are people no matter where you go. Everyone has hopes and dreams and wants to be successful.

Your malnutrition project showed us that mothers want their babies to be healthy, but they don't have the means nor perhaps the knowledge of what to do about their malnutrition.

Your World Food Program project showed us that people are willing to cooperate and take direction and the skills of planting crops are common to everyone.

Your involvement with the orphans showed us that even there someone (like Pauline) is willing to lead a program to take care of the orphans. And children there respond in the same way as children in North America; they want and enjoy the attention of others.

Idrissou, Abdoulaye, and your host family showed us that people are truly welcoming.

Your friends who wanted to share gifts with us showed us that your friends truly appreciate your kindnesses to them and wanted to show their kindness to us in return.

Don't fall off that chair. I too am surprised this is coming so soon after the other one. Internet (in Batouri!)decided to like me and be friendly this week!

Random fact: did you know Eastern Cameroon is where "genetic evidence" suggests the AIDS virus first jumped to humans? I'll leave you science people to explain how that can be proven, but there is/has been a team from Johns Hopkins studying just that in a town about 200 km from Batouri.

In the scheme of Cameroon being “Africa in Miniature”, the East, being as big as it is, includes both savannah and jungle. The Congo Basin starts in the southeast corner of Cameroon and as such there is a lot of forest. This makes logging quite ubiquitous, part of what makes up life as an Eastie, and something you couldn’t help but observe if you are one of the lucky few to venture out this way. As I have said many times, I live on a logging route. One of the few main roads in the East that starts in the Southeast corner of Cameroon by the Congo heads north where it is joined with the road from the CAR before heading directly east (through Batouri) is dominated by these logging trucks. This road remains unpaved save for that 1km strip through Batouri. Dimako (a village in the East) is the crossroads for all these logging trucks coming from Gabon, Congo, CAR, and Cameroon.

I have so many stories I could say about this industry I don’t even know where to start. From its presence by way of logging trucks and their sometimes constant accidents I see, the deforestation that happens, and the reforestation I have helped with. That is to say, if you had no other hint, the clue to know the East is the natural resource wonder of Cameroon is in its perpetual existence. Judging by the amount of pictures taken lately, maybe time it got a special shout out.

A quick snapshot into the beautiful, untouched, wild land of Eastern Cameroon. Batouri I think is around the point where savannah starts blending with jungle. Savannah is above, jungle below. You should go take a listen to the song “Mine, Mine, Mine” from Pocahontas. “A wilder, more challenging country I couldn’t design…in a land I can claim. A land I can tame. The greatest adventure is mine!” I have yet to find anything else that encapsulates this place any better, in my view at least. I really should go out and search some pictures of gold mining.

My latest trip home from Bertoua. This accident is probably the most G rated you can get. Yep, that is my vehicle! We all got out before it attempted to pass. Dry season brings tons of dust and gives me a nice orange glow, but rainy season really makes travel fun (note sarcasm).

And here it is – the notorious logging truck! The biggest logs can only be taken three at a time. Julia and I call ourselves dusty road diplomats.

This is the logging company I worked with on their reforestation project back in March/April. We know the owner who is good friends with Ed. He is a true success story starting from a carpenter to now running one of the biggest logging companies in Cameroon. The trucks drop the logs off before they are moved to be dried and transformed into more of the wood as we know it. I have some facebook pictures up from a visit here back in March, reforestation project and all.

I stole these pictures from Mike. He is the agro forestry PCV coming to Batouri in December. I asked Peace Corps Admin to give Batouri an agriculture PCV and they took me up on that request! Thus as I told him, I decided his destiny. Was overjoyed when he brought up his desire to work on tofu even before I had a chance to tell him I had already decided he was going to do just that on my malnutrition project. Here I was introducing him to people on the reforestation project. The hope is for him to continue on with that since he is more qualified and in the know than I. They just started planting the first of the seedlings that will be transferred to their plantation in April/May.

Time to fête again! This time for the Muslim’s fête du Mouton (sheep). Fêtes are nice because it’s one of those rare days when the attempt is made both to look nice and wear something nice, even rarer to see me with my hair down. One of my survival techniques for Cameroon – quit while ahead. This strategy is applied everywhere. Sometimes I’m having a great day, but I head home before something could go wrong. Or, I’m having a bad day/moment and I head home to shut out Batouri and repose. I’ve been known many a times to be found taking a nap on the mat on the floor in my bedroom. Don’t judge, it’s reliably cool!

This strategy applies to beauty regime. Usually I wash my face, put sunscreen on, pull my hair back and call it good. Then in the evenings wash off whatever dirt or sweat has accumulated put some cream on and call it good. Some of my clothes have become really baggy and stretched out from washing them by hand, but because they are loose and thus I feel make me sweat less I wear them and call it good. Am I venting? You got me. Confession, I have occasionally in recent weeks gone back to pictures from home to remind myself me feeling put together is possible. How Cameroonians can do it, I only admire them more for it!

Making a meal all by myself from scratch for 20 people? Never would have known I could do that until Africa came into my life. Well I would not spend a day and a half in the kitchen just for anybody. Rumor has it my post mate Jessica is getting married to our Cameroonian friend Jupiter. I organized an engagement party for them recently. Of course because I’m hosting lights must go out. True I could have taken a picture of all the guests, but more important to document this labor of love. You know it was yummy when a PCV tells you word on the street is I can make some “kick-ass” Mexican food!

A nothing picture, uploaded just to show you the ambiance that candlelight and kerosene lamp brings to my house and the great group of easties sitting on my couch. Had everybody write down advice for the couple, and my concentrated look is probably trying to figure out how to translate the english into french. The contraire is always easiest!

Parents visit? Its this Sunday! They will be writing the next blog post (you guys promised). We both don't know what we're getting ourselves into ;). Good vibes out for safe travel!

Let it be said-Africa is an adventure! Yep sure have been confronted with a lot of realities of life in Africa as of late, but I still can’t imagine my life anywhere else at the moment. There is no way around it, death is a poignant topic. One that has obviously not escaped me during my time here. Kind of gnarly, eh? I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to put the subject behind me!

I can't say it enough, the second time around is where its at. Things are flowing smoothly enough that its all moving so fast now I can barely keep up! Never been so in love, so invested, and so established in this experience as I am now. Since I’ve conveyed the challenges of finding work, I thought it time to share some of the fruits of my labor and projects that have been occupying my time. The agriculture and youth development pcvs who arrive in Batouri in December told me they were excited at all the work opportunities I showed them during their recent site visit! Particularly, my favorite project, working with Central African Republic (CAR) refugees. First a little background.

Central African Republic is a mineral rich, landlocked country in central Africa that garners little international attention. The political situation has been unstable as of late. Sometime in the mid-2000s there was an unsuccessful coup d’etat against the president. This launched the country into a kind of war between rebel and presidential forces, which unfortunately caught innocent civilians in the middle. The west and northwestern regions (or those bordering Chad and Cameroon) were particular regions of insecurity. I do not know whose forces were predominantly responsible for what, but in a war it goes without saying the stories left in its wake are anything but cheery.

The Mbororo ethnic group in the CAR is particularly known for owning livestock. In Africa, a lot of one’s wealth is in their livestock. It’s what people inherit and plan to pass on to future generations. It’s also what makes up a lot of bride prices. This ethnic group was specifically targeted for just that very reason, and when the entire livestock is seized by force…

As the refugees started coming into Chad and Cameroon in step international organizations such as the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) to process and organize the refugees and the World Food Program (WFP) to provide food for them. This provided for their acute needs and now that that critical stage is deemed over the WFP is focusing on more sustainable development where food is concerned. They sponsor an organization in Batouri to help in its Food for Work program. What that means is the WFP provides the seeds necessary to grow the food, but the refugees and local Cameroonians clear the fields and do the planting. In exchange for the work they are given food rations in place of money. This will continue until the fields start producing crops. In Cameroon, the refugees are placed only in the Adamawa and East regions and I believe they number in the 80,000s.

With the help of this organization in Batouri, now in steps this Peace Corps Volunteer. We have chosen two small villages east of Batouri where the hope is to work with these groups to help teach them how to market some of the crops harvested from these fields. However, my true function has been working with some of the refugees and Cameroonians in these two villages to organize themselves into groups so I can start what are called Village Savings and Loan Associations with them. These are savings associations that allow groups to save and in return give the possibility of credit to its members in villages without any formal banking sector. As the WFP has told me, this falls under their Food for Training program. The East hasn’t been without its challenges, but this work has made me realize how perfectly placed I was in this region to have this opportunity to work with refugees. It’s intriguing work to me and quite the opportunity to sit and chat with them about their experiences that brought them to Cameroon.

Getting set up for food distribution. What's on the menu? Palm oil, salt (maybe sugar I forget), legumes/split peas, and then either rice or corn. This month it was corn.

In the Work for Food program, Katherine works closely with the Refugees and follows the progress of their work. At the end of the month she calculates and adds up how much rations of each item they will receive based on the number of days worked. Everybody sees her first to sign their name before receiving their ticket and standing in line.

Refugees starting to line up. Took this picture before myself joining in and helping measure and distribute corn. Can you imagine living off these types of food rations each month? I don't think you can, I sure couldn't! While I'm like 97.2% against putting the sponsoring country on any aid supplies, I was proud to see my two countries representing! Palm oil - Canada, split peas- USA.

The WFP buildings in Batouri.

A look inside.

Me with the Director of the WFP in Batouri.

Chillin' with Mbororo women en brousse.

The meetings for my bank's business associations are held in members homes. I prepare my presentations beforehand and tape them up wherever available - this time a door in the living room. This days topic was introducing the concept of marketing before diving into talking specifically about product to a women's association that mainly sells food on the side of the road before. In the simplest terms possible, I tried to discuss with them the importance of having a quality product, why its good to differentiate it, and giving examples of improving their presentation/packaging. If you are familiar with the marketing mix, yes Peace Corps in my training did tell us to add an additional 5th "p" here in Cameroon. Personel/employees and customer service, which gets its very own catergory, can always use a boost here! The bank employee who works with the associations told me the animated conversation that followed was a good thing.

Art project for handicapped youth this month - binoculars! Everybody for about 2 months was helping me save up toilet paper rolls.

Just when I thought my African life couldn’t get anymore surreal....

Second year in Batouri is still going so much better. The constant ups and downs of life here are all part of the game. Nice to feel comfortable, established, and in control of things. A huge majority of it is from deepened friendships and the satisfaction of working on projects. Remember me grumbling about trying to find work and not being able? Who would of thunk I have come to the point I’m actually turning people/projects away. Not this girl of seven months ago that’s for sure! Julia calls me the Carrie Bradshaw of Batouri solely for the reason that when I talk about this town I talk like I am in a relationship with it. We have rough patches, but turns out this place is good for me. Small and quaint enough that I can walk anywhere I need to by foot and have gotten to know a lot of people, yet big enough and with a sufficient mix of ethnicities that I can hide myself and keep some anonymity that my other PCV counterparts who live in villages lose.

Following the theme of constant ups and downs, this past Wednesday was a down and a shocking reminder just how surreal my life here can get. I choose to talk about this because it will do me good not to keep this to myself. It’s also a perfect time to debut my malaria/malnutrition project.

As I shared in my earlier post, Wednesday mornings I am working with a Malnutrition project at the Catholic Health Center. This past Wednesday a mother brought her 2 year old daughter for the second week in a row to be weighed and receive some fortified flour. The week before she was at least moving and crying, however this week she was barely stirring. It was evident to the naked eye this was a severe case of malnutrition. When I picked her up to weigh her she was all bones and my fingers could practically touch – she weighed less than 7 kilos (15ish lbs). Denise, the nurse I work with, saw her and immediately arranged transportation for her to go to the hospital. She asked that I meet them there with my camera so I could document a severe case such as this. By the time I arrived at the hospital the nurses were in the middle of preparing fluids for her to drink to help with her dehydration and hypoglycemia. I was to wait until she had finished drinking those before I could film her unclothed. She started taking slow sips, but less than 5 minutes after starting the nurse told the mother to stop. We all watched in the next few moments as she died in her mother’s arms. Sigh, a rough moment. A rough moment indeed. The tears that first came subsided into shock at what I had just witnessed and the following juxtaposition of seeing a grieving mother holding her dead child and the nurses carrying on with business as usual.

The mother with her daughter.

An educated clue to her impending death would be the milky whiteness in her eyes. My uneducated hint was her mom covering her face to keep the flies away while waiting for me to weigh her.

Why you ask would I involve myself in this work when I know sad outcomes just as this happen and that breaks my heart to see? Believe me, I’m the first to ask myself. My own answer is a complicated jumble of words. I accept and have seen myself families that truly do not have sufficient funds for food, however I think most of it boils down to the fact that so much of the finality and the irreversible outcome of death can be avoided here. I’m up against mentality, lack of education, and a culture that does not lend itself to good eating habits. If I could be so fortunate for you to visit Batouri I am 100% certain you would agree with me. Not here in Batouri, not a place with a daily, decent-sized market! Some eating customs do not lend themselves to healthy growth. No feeding your child solid food at three months is not good and do not fear your child will not have a taste for the finer things in life if you give him some meat or eggs, etc. Maybe I can persuade some of the people who told me for now the two kids I have seen succumb to malnutrition didn’t do so because it was their destiny. Au contraire sir, stop that order of your second beer and buy some decent food (was said a bit nicer). It’s not destiny or sorcery, but negligence when a kid is dependent on the food you give them. That and, honestly, the fewer kids that I can prevent and not have to help to wrap up to be discretely moved to the morgue the better.

Well I can’t change the world or Batouri, but here is how I’m going to work to change the views of 30 families. What started as an idea middle of August now officially kicked off as a project this past Saturday. We discussed with 5 community members the purpose of our project and asked that they each find 6 families with kids from 0 to 5 years of age who are at-risk, can really stand to benefit from this help, be open to the idea, and have a willingness to change. We will then take those families, particularly, the women and educate them on two issues, malnutrition and malaria – the highest causes of infant mortality here.

For malaria we will educate them on the disease and what they can do to prevent it. If they do not have access to a mosquito net one will be supplied to them with subsequent visits intended to ensure its proper use. For malnutrition we want to educate them on nutrition and ask what they prepare for dinner and feed their kids and then show them ways of improving this diet. I want to discuss with them proper eating habits over the course of several days and introduce to them examples of nutritious meals. Kids will be weighed on each visit and their progress noted. The next phase of this project will be to then give them the necessary seeds to grow this food. We are getting an agriculture PCV in December and I am waiting on him to help me with this part and to work with him in showing these families how to make tofu - and excellent and easy to make protein source. (Dear future PCV yes I have decided work for you, but feel you might come to appreciate having work ready and at the waiting for you! :) ) Me or the next business volunteer after me can take that tofu and possibly turn it into an income-generating activity. If it happens to grow then from the original thirty there can be thirty more sought out.

Ready to start :) From an idea to reality. Here are all the local Cameroonians I have found to help!

So that's it in a nutshell. What do you think? If you feel it's a worthy project to support there are plenty of ways it is needed! This is the proper place for a shout-out to the Azure Hills Focus Group. It was a pleasure to present to you about my experience when I was home. Not only have you taken me under your wing for a gril you all didn't know and send me regular care packages, but believed in a project I had when it was all an idea. It has allowed me to start this in such a short time. Thank you, you have been a blessing!

Now to end on a not so heavy topic. 'Twas a welcome distraction to have Julia in town. Went through the laborous making of hamburgers for her and these guys who always ask for hamburger nights. As Idrissou always says when we are together like this "on est en famille - we are with family." Not far off, while I have come to know a lot of people in town for the past year this is who I consider family here:).

When Cameroonians shake hands they end it by snapping their two middle fingers together. Not as easily done as you might think. It became my thing and known as my thing that after this snapping of fingers I make all my Cameroonian friends do a "pound-it/fist-bump." I love this picture because it I think it is a pretty accurate capture of our friendship.

Turning 25 in Africa went a little like this...

The weekend before made a special trip into Bertoua to celebrate with Michelle whose birthday was on the 8th. To her credit and my ever-growing opinion of her, she actually wore the birthday sash and pipe cleaner tiara I made her out and about in Bertoua! Though i've seen a lot of crazier things that nobody bats an eye at. This picture is not only to show you this, but also to proove to my mom that short of promising her to burn my jeans my 25th birthday present to myself bought in her honor was a pair that fit.

Was I a bit nostalgic for home? Naturally so. I did wonder what my first-world self would be doing for this particular milestone. Two birthdays away from home now and there are no complaints that the next one will be in America with friends and family there :). On the actual day organized a scavenger hunt with toys, candy, and dyed eggs for the kids of my muslim women friends. Had a wonderful evening with my friend Idrissou who came over to my house with food and presented me with an embroidered/traditional boubou.

For the handicapped youth that I work with i've expanded my lessons not just into english, but art and science as well. On this day it was our first art day so those present decorated nametags as to give me a glimpse of hope in learning all their names. Thanks to birthday packages was able to celebrate my birthday with them as well. Remnants of birthdays past and a birthday sign that has made its appearance at many parties of mine growing up will now be passed on to Batouri's next generation of kids. The young girl squatting in front is deaf and mute, and one of my favorites who has completely stolen my heart.

Waited until the weekend to have a dinner party so Jessica and Julia could both be there. The menu? Philly "cheese" steaks. Africans, at least Cameroonians, will tell you they don't feel its a meal unless there is meat. Being somebody who does not eat a lot of meat nor cooks it at home, I did give myself a mental high five for all the compliments I received for it. Woke up early to be at the meat market first thing in the morning waiting for the fresh meat to arrive and assure the best cut. Waiting for it to arrive, I perused the rest of the meat market. Meaning amusing myself with that daily selection of bush meat. Typical choses to choose among are viper, pangolin, rat, antelope, and bush cats (a.k.a. bushpussy -yes it amuses me too). Monkeys are not as common, but i've seen my fair share of them.

Right before everybody came electricity went out so immediately got the candles and kerosene lamp going. By this time it doesn't even make me skip a beat. Did not mind at all the ambiance of eating dinner with twelve guests in my house by candlelight - though still will be awhile before I think any romantic appeal for it is back.

Lights came back right in time for cake. Yeah for birthday packages, it was yummy! Blew out candles over the writing of Happy 25 J*Nell after being sung happy birthday to in English, French, and Fulfulde. Barka da Sallah to me!

Beautiful birthday bouquet.

Now for an amusing story of how I tried to make the best of male harrasment, but first a bit of a back story. So moved was I from a girl I knew and her, frankly, preventable death last month to malnutrition that I was inspired to search out projects in town that help in its fight. Now every Tuesday and Wednesday morning I am helping the Catholic Health Center in its malnutrition project. Tuesdays are vaccination day and Wednesdays they give out enriched flour and do some nutritional education. Both days the kids are weighed and their arms measured to be able to chart their progress. Together with Denise, a nurse from the Health Center, I have initiated a project against malaria and malnutriton - the number one killer of kids ages 0 to 5 here. Project proposal? Done! Budget? In the works. If it takes off we will be going house by house in a neighborhood with some of the severest malnutrtion and following the families with kids who match those ages. I'm pretty excited because I think its legit, and will let everybody know if it takes off!

Aaannndd now the story. So a man who thinks he is my friend showed up on my porch one afternoon. He wanted to call a photographer to take a picture of me and my hands and feet painted up, but by then it had all washed off. He persisted that he take me out for drink, but I informed him I was really "occupied" with my sister Jessica at the moment. Having to drag her out of my house to proove it. He then took out a 5,000 CFA bill ($10 USD) telling me to use it to buy myself a drink when I was free. One drink is 500 CFA($1 USD). We argued over my refusal to take it for about 10 minutes on my porch. Me telling him I was uncomfortable about it and him telling me he was offended I didn't take it. The issue was resolved when I told him it would become a donation to a malnutrition project.

So thank you sir. Your derangement allowed me and Denise to buy food and for once not just talk about nutrition but have the ability to demonstrate in front of their eyes that a recipe with a lot of nutritious components is possible!

It was a one pot meal. Can't remember all that went in, but know some of it included the red (unprocessed and still somewhat nutrient rich) palm oil, dried fish, sweet potatoes, peanut butter, and then we cracked eggs in it at the very end. I promise you, it was tasty.

Knowing the back story makes this picture quite amusing to me.

A five month old being weighed. She is now in the care of her aunt because her mom died two weeks after giving birth to her and after her father ran off.

This boy was being readmitted. He had falled back into malnutrition, a point the nurses definetly lectured his father on. With this photo you can see the ledger in which I was noting down weights, arm circumferences, etc.

When kids are admitted their height is measured and their extremities (feet in particular) looked at to evaluate if swollen and if so by what degree.

What is Ramadan? Here are a few quick facts to introduce you it.

1. The start of Ramadan is determined by the moon so its exact start is often up in the air until just before it begins.

2. The date changes every year. Islam functions on a lunar calendar. So while Muslim holidays are always the same day on the Muslim calendar, they happen on different days on the Gregorian calendar –typically moving 11 or 12 days earlier each year. In 2010, Ramadan began on Aug. 11. This year it started on July 31 or August 1 I forget.

3. During Ramadan, observers are expected to abstain from food, drink, and other pleasures from dawn to dusk. Removing these comforts from daily routine is intended to focus the mind on prayer, spirituality, and charity and to purify the body and mind.

4. In countries where Muslims are the majority, Ramadan has a drastic impact on daily life. Egypt pushes the clocks back an hour during the holy month so that the fast feels like it is ending earlier and the evenings are lengthened. Work days are made shorter during the month to accommodate the additional time spent in prayer and in enjoying festive meals to end the daily fast.

5. Several different groups are excused from fasting during Ramadan: pregnant women, people who are mentally or physically ill, and sometimes women who are breastfeeding. Children are not obligated to fast until they hit puberty, although many choose to observe the fast at least part of the month in preparation for later years.

My favorite part of Ramadan ironically was the eating! From time to time I helped my muslim friends break their daily fast in the evening by partaking in the fast-breaking staples of bouille (a rice or corn drink) and beignets (fried dough), and then whatever other food was prepared as well. During the day if I was eating or drinking water in front of a Muslim I tried to be respectful by asking first if it would bother them. For a non-muslim, like myself, the best part is the fete at the end to celebrate its completion. Lots of food is prepared and men spend the day visiting each other and inviting others to eat at their house. Everybody is dressed to impress! Jessica and I spent the afternoon with our Muslim women friends and their families and the evening at the home of our close friend Idrissou.

Spent the morning before with a bunch of other muslim women getting my hands and feet painted. They typically do this anytime there is a celebration or marriage.

Close friends that do alot for us. Jupiter our Anglophone friend, Abdoulaye the accountant at my bank, and Idrissou the head of one of the bus companies here. They only look this serious because I tried to get them to stop making faces.

Day afterwards, made the 120k (3 1/2 hour) trek out to Kentzou to see Julia. She is an English teacher like Jessica, and a person I am continually grateful to have in the East.

Prison bus travel, crazy huh? The partition separating the cabin from the back is how it got that nickname. One of two travel/vehicule options for me and the only option from Batouri onward. They are found only in the East and Adamawa regions where travel can be on rural dirt roads. Since we are currently in rainy season the roads are a lot less dusty than it was when this was taken back in February during the dry season. Thus I am not arriving with my otherwise typical "orange glow/fake tan." Typical outfit when embarking on this prison bus travel - head scarf, check. Glasses-check. Jersey-check. Here I am arriving on Julia's porch.

And as I look at that date, better not forget to say...

Ugh. It’s been one of those months. Not going to lie, August 2011 has not been my favorite. In a way coaxed myself into writing because I didn’t feel I had too many positive things to say, but what is a blog if not informative. There were no false pretenses that this would always be easy.

First let me orientate you a bit more to this East region I call home. Of the ten regions in Cameroon the East is by far the biggest but the least populated. Of the two major roads, most people live on the main road heading up North. The only one that is paved, save for a few small stretches. This road was completely paved from the Adamawa region on upward (if I understand the story correctly) by the UN to help facilitate aid supplies into Chad. The rest of the East lives in small villages scattered around the second major road, which remains unpaved save for a (whohoo!) 1 km stretch through the main part of Batouri - this little up and coming town en brousse (in the bush – just more poetic in French).

With its bounty of natural resources the East is the richest yet, ironically, remains the most underdeveloped. In my view I would say this because of a blend of the local population’s mentality and their inability to seize on this opportunity and an ode to Cameroon being one of the most corrupt countries out there. Opinion is still forming on any role in logging/mining companies and corporate social responsibility. Gold is what I see here the most as it is mined in the surrounding area and passed through local hands to people who sell it on up to those who will melt and transform it. Logging is always present as I live on a logging route. Diamonds are also mined, though I do not know of their abundance and have yet to see some myself. Recently, the world’s biggest supply of cobalt was found in the southeast close to the Congo border.

Ok back on topic. Africa and sickness, some would put them as synonyms. Indeed I have seen enough to not refute that. It’s a lot more up close and personal and this month too close for comfort. I kind of admire the way they so easily accept death as a part of life when we in the west do so much to fight against it. It took me awhile to adjust to people so casually mentioning their family members who died, sometimes constantly seeing preparations for funerals in my neighborhood, and just in general the death I have seen. This month I have had my fill of this for a long time to come. It’s something else to now have lived here long enough to know close friends who have lost loved ones and know people who have died.

I’ve seen a fair amount of malnourished kids. It has become easy when I see those with a swollen belly too differentiate between worms and malnutrition – trick is to look at the size of their arms. It’s disheartening to see because although the east is not a breadbasket to Cameroon we have food. We don’t deal with the food security issues in the way that the north does with its more desert/arid environment. It angers me because of lot of malnutrition comes from negligence and lack of education. Now to know of a small young girl who has died of this first thing in August is sad, and definitely makes one think.

Also at the same time I was in town when Julia’s houseboy, a young boy 12 years of age, approached me. He had come into Batouri by himself from a local village to meet up with Julia who was passing through, but they missed each other. Only a glance necessary to know he was really sick. As soon as he showed me his village “herbal” remedies he was taking for Malaria/Yellow Fever I took him immediately to a pharmacist who referred him straight away to a doctor. They didn’t hesitate to hospitalize him for the night to undergo further testing. I’m still left with the image of leaving this sick, tiny young boy with very dark hauntingly yellow eyes by himself in the hospital overnight. Thankfully he recovered right away and blessed to have gotten him to the hospital before it got even worse. We went around getting him his medication before I sent him back to his village and back to his mother. The diagnosis was a severe case of typhoid. However, having him solely rely on me and being responsible for his health, food, and travel (even if for only a day and a half) stressed me out at bit and was a bit of heavy stuff I was not prepared for.

The owner of the boulangerie here in town never takes vacation. He is a self-admitted workaholic and a good friend of mine. As is the custom, when a woman gives birth a lot of times they go back to their village to do so. His wife who he married just over a year ago in May gave birth to their first child a baby boy. We had been discussing her and their son’s soon return to Batouri in a few days, needless to say he was excited. He had invited me to his house to meet his wife and son and told me his wife was informed of this. The next day when I went into the boulangerie was shocked to see it was not him working. His wife had died early that morning and he had taken the first available bus out. He is taking it very bravely and explains that this happens in life, however disconcerting to see him return without a wife and a baby that has been sent to be raised by his mom.

In my previous post about visiting the Northwest, do you see that man sitting to my left under that canopy and that same man standing to my right when I talk about that woman who showed me around Kumbo? That family took me under their wing for the week I was there, and if I lived there felt they would be like family. They opened up their house and took excellent care of me. Calling me their adopted daughter and promising to find me a young man so I would stay and come back to Kumbo. Only in his mid-40s, in the middle of August, he died of a heart attack. It is devastating to his family and to his legit organization, which sponsors local athletic youth to compete in international events.

Family and friends, I would love to tell you I took it all in stride. However, after I found out he died of a heart attack I did reach a breaking point. Just TOO much went down the first part of August. I was a bit overwhelmed, one day in particular, into the worst homesickness I have had yet. Not what I had imagined, nor anticipated, a quiet time at post by myself to be.

Things starting taking a turn for the better with the arrival of visitors! Visitors are good because for a place that sees few outsiders they help validate my presence and for a brief amount of time make my life less of a spectacle. There can be a constant running commentary and knowledge of when I leave and return to my house, what I buy in the market and who I buy it from, who I hang out with or am walking with, and what I wear etc. With visitors I can get away with a lot more. When they see me with them in town people actually are more likely to leave me alone since they see me otherwise occupied with my “soeurs et frères” (brother and sisters) and if they haven’t seen me for a bit not pester me about abandoning them. The most comments I hear are that they are happy I found another of my kind and especially if I am walking with a man harassment is dialed down to a bare minimum.

Hanging out in my house.

For a region that no other volunteers have to pass through to reach Yaounde (there is a train that connects the city to the North), visitors are few and far between. If they do choose to take the road they usually spend the night in Bertoua and continue on. In one year we have had three visitors, two of which weren’t even PCVs! Two guys from England passed through on their around the coast tour of Africa. The other spent a night on a quick tour of the East. So it was a nice treat to receive the same amount I had in a year in one visit. The other 5 East PCVs not included. Ben, John, and Jenny were heading into the jungles in the deep East close to the Congo to check out a WWF wildlife reserve. A place few PCVs , even easties, have ever ventured. Of their courageous feat they said they were glad to have done it, but would never do it again. Days of prison bus travel on dusty roads is an achievement in itself.

Ben, Jenny, and I in Bertoua celebrating the first people from my training group to come visit me!

During this trip to Bertoua, I was able to welcome two new volunteers to the East. We spent a few days in Bertoua where I showed them around, introduced places to eat, and helped them buy materials for their houses. Justine took me up on my offer to help one of them move to post. It was the easiest one I have done yet. The two big rooms of her house were virtually empty and were a breeze to move into and set her up in Diang. Michelle had more the move to post to Dimako that I could empathize with. Her car got stuck in the rain, mattress soaked, no electricity, lots of cleaning, and she slept on a hard bench. Two years looked overwhelming right then. Seems just yesterday Julia was outside my house giving me a shoulder rub because I was overwhelmed with the cleaning I had to do even before moving in and we were trying not to freak out from losing a giant spider in my room before going to bed. Only advice I could give to Michelle was to give herself credit for what she had done thus far, not everybody could even make it that far.

Justine,me,and Michelle hanging out in Bertoua.

Things continued to pick up. Went out en brousse to see two villages and the work the World Food Program works with and for which I will work with the Central African Republic (CAR) refugees. Next step is to meet the groups and discuss what I can teach them. I celebrated the Fete du Ramadan with Muslim friends and made a trip to Kentzou (small village on the CAR border) to see Julia. Thankful the month ended on a good note, but, happy to say, goodbye and good riddance August 2011! Either way, life continues, and I have been reminded this month how much of a blessing that is.

P.S. America thank you for the bon-bons.

I shall end with a quote I've especially identified with this month. "A man falls down a well and calls for help. A passing missionary hears his pleas and drops a Bible down the well. Next an aid worker stops and drops down some money. A Peace Corps Volunteer hears the man screaming, drops down a bag, then leaps into the well. “What are you doing?” asks the startled man at the bottom of the well. “I’ve come to live with you,” the PCV replies."

Well its just me at post for the moment. Kind of interesting and a little different to experience Batouri as if I was the only white person. Jessica is coming back from the States and Jackie has now left for good (a little earlier than anticipated having qualified for interrupted service - all because of a little crazy man, but more on that later...) Being back at post and now since having crossed the half-way point, it seems completely bizarre to be saying now that everything is down hill. Merde, how did I get here? Its made me reflect on the year that has been and for the first time go back and read all the blog posts I have written thus far. Its entertaining to especially read the first months where I was wide-eyed and trying to take in everything as it came. Most of that stuff hardly garners a second glance now, which takes a bit of the fun out of it (lol, but thats me saying this now)!

In one year I have moved continents, immediately had to adjust to living with an African host family and soak up a lot of information in ten weeks, moved myself out East, and adapted to the craziness that is travel here. I have worked my way through a million sorts of frustrations establishing myself in Batouri and being one of very few people white people, and dealt with more harrassment than I can mention. Made an African house a home, think a warm bucket bath is a treat, learned to live without stable electricity or running water, come to enjoy washing clothes by hand, and just accepted that internet might never be stable as I went the first few months without and the last few with having it more freqeuent but for only 10,20, tops 30 minutes at a time. I attempted at climbing a mountain, been robbed at gunpoint(for which a scar on my elbow will always pay permanent memorial to from a dive under a table)and lost my first camera, been to London,and became a brunette - sadly for only like two months, I kind of liked it. Apparently can now carry a conversation in French without needing a dictionary as a clutch, sufficiently gone through enough electronics, and may have pulled out more hair than necessary in the process but found some work, finally. Had my house broken into and lost a second camera, been home, been to Zurich, seen a lot of things I wish I hadn't, and some how along the way unwillingly became a little wiser in the matter of that thing that beats inside all of us and the lengths it takes people. No, never the funnest being the innocent one with the most to lose. Its only a nutshell but there is so much more I can write or can't think of since they don't faze me anymore. Its been a big year of adjustments, hard to believe it can be summarized in such few words.

What's more, i've also met some of the most open, wonderful,and loyal people who have given alot of themselves to welcome and help this stranger out without expecting anything in return. Been treated to the best hospitality, been fed lots of food at dinners until my sides hurt, never not been without protection or help when I needed it, and treated to some of the most nostalgic cultural experiences. One was sharing a hearty laugh with my muslim women friends as they asked me to show them how to tweeze their eyebrows. They laughed themselves silly until there were tears from seeing themselves for the first time in the magnififed side of a mirror. Another was dancing the night away with children who were teaching me African dance moves who also personally took on the task themselves of protecting me from male derangers. Anytime anybody now sees me in Dimako (a village in the East) i'm now referred to as "la femme blanche qui dance avec les enfants". The white women who dances with children.

Now i'm already into my second and final year. Started ticking off my list of "last things at post" with the recent start of Ramadan. Having now been through the big adjustments/ frustrations the feeling is not one of crossing a finish line, but that of letting go of a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Its refeshing to be more relaxed at post where you do things they way you want to do them and not because its what you feel a volunteer should be doing. Any volunteer could tell you this but we all agree one must find it for themselves.

And, i've already started back at work! Taught my first associations this past weekend. I would love to tell you all they were riveted and hanging on every word. Its going to be an interesting challenge trying to convince someone who sells braised fish on the side of the road the importance of knowing your strengths and weaknesses to better market yourself. Although a guy who sells used clothing did ask me what he can do if all he sees are the weaknesses of his business. It may have been a question out of discouragement, but to see me would have been to see me with a huge smile on my face doing an inner happy dance. Where, sir, have you been all this time!? The reaction may sound mean of me, but its a good step just knowing them. And hey that's what i'm here to help them improve on. Those kind of questions will keep me coming back!

In my abscence, one of the girls in the handicapped youth group underwent surgery. Was told that when coming out of the anesthesia this 5 year old girl started repeating some english I had taught them. Saying "Hi, my name is Janelle. What is your name?" or naming off the colors, even purple which was hard for them. How can that not make me proud or pull on my heartstrings. I think this is only the beginning of long and a fruitful relationship!

So I started this blog just as a personal record for myself, it didn't matter that anyone would read this. Although several months ago I added a ticker just to see if anybody was, and turns out someone was! I'm this far in and suprising myself sometimes that i'm still plugging away at this (thank you grandparents for the encouragement on that). Amazed that i've in certain ways come to kind of enjoy this and it turns out to be a big support that people keep tuning in. So thank you. You, you, and yes EVEN you are appreciated :). Whether you've held out since the beginning or joined in along the way, stay on because there are lots more adventures to come. The real fun is just beginning!

Finally back to Batouri! Nice to be home and be settled. Although to get there was several days of deep cleansing. After an extended absence the outside of my house was like a jungle. Lots of grass in front of it and in the back the grass grown so tall and so thick that some of that vegetation was coming in through the windows! Inside was not as bad as expected but still lots of dust to wipe off and sweep out. Chose the height of termite season to take vacation apparently thus I had lots of sawdust from them munching on my wardrobe to clean up and several coats of liquid insect repellant to apply. Where does one begin to clean? Well if you're me it starts immediately with cleaning/re-filling the filter, washing sheets and towels, then turning on some music and grabbing a bucket and broom and going at it!

So why the extended vacation? Lots of things to do this summer! First, I was invited to be in a collaboration project with Renee another volunteer in the East before she left to go home to the States and a guy in her village who makes honey. We were to help with french translation and specifically me with business opportunities. The project was to take place in Kumbo in the Northwest region at Greencare the host institution of Patrick an agriculture volunteer. We spent two full days learning about the different techniques of beekeeping and proper maintenance of hives.

And here is the group shot. I have no shame in admitting at this point it had been two days without a shower. I take cold showers but with the humidity its refreshing, but here I was up in the mountains where the water is ice cold, brrr!

Was shown around Kumbo by this women who in edition for working for ELECAM (which organizes Cameroon's presidential elections)is the head of a women empowerment group/ngo. She spent the day taking me around to different women empowerment centers and to their meetings. Not even a week in the northwest and I could have had work! Go figure.

The northwest is a beautiful region. Very green, rolling hills, and on the drive up to Kumbo was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few waterfalls. Had a very nice relaxing afternoon outdoors getting to know friends of Jake, another SED volunteer from my training group I was staying with. No double takes necessary. Yes your eyes do not deceive you, that is me holding a baby. Never thought I could come to love children as much as I have African children!

Jake, his friend Mark, and I chilling after a long day of honey talk and French-English translation.

Other volunteers came in on the weekend and it was nice to see a lot since I don't see too many that often! Here I am with Liz an education volunteer up in the Extreme North and one of my closest friends here :).

Kelly, a fellow PCV friend, who is a volunteer that lives in Bamenda the Northwest regional capital also stopped by for a visit that weekend. She invited me to stay at her place for a few days to let me check out for myself the city other PCVs refer to as "Little America." For those of us other PCVS living out of the West,Southwest, or Northwest(which have a lot more noticeable development)we denote those volunteers of living in Posh Corps. Bamenda is situated in a valley of sorts and while out to dinner with others, the gaze can't help but drift to the scenery and some of the waterfalls off in the distance. By contrast to the East, the Northwest is one of the most populated. Most 30 of its volunteers live within a 2 hour radius of Bamenda. Was floored to find they had a coffee shop/espresso house! Didn't feel like I really was in Africa at all for the moment, but did leave sooner then expected once the place became too inundated with too many white people who were speaking English. It kind of weirds me out to see a lot of expats, even a lot of Americans in one place speaking English that aren't PCVS because i'm just not around that here. Exploring the market, I don't know if they were new to Kelly or not, but I hadn't yet come across Lychee's in this country. Bought some to try and because of their eccentric exterior, had to have some fun with them first!

This year's theme for the American Embassy's Fourth of July party was the Peace Corps 50th Anniversary. With this in mind 50 Peace Corps Volunteers were invited to attend the event. Julia and I were there representing the East. The Ambassador's speech explained our history, our purpose, and highlighted our work. Was quite proud when asked at one point to raise our hands if we were PCVs and was touched when everybody around me turned my way and offered their thanks for my service or service to their country. Afterwards us PCVs participated in a flash mob with a few other embassy workers dancing to Springsteen's "Born in the USA." Was definetly a different social circle socializing with a diplomatic crowd. It was fun just going about to random people and starting chats. Alot of them had never been to the East before or had images it was being mined of all its natural resources and rapidly deforested. It was this way that I met the Director of the British Council and his wife. They were so kind as to invite me to dinner the next day and serve me foods they knew I couldn't get out East.

With over 50 PCVs in Yaounde it was more than Peace Corps was able to host. Some workers at the Embassy opened their homes to us. Another volunteer and I were signed up together to stay at the Defense Attache's house. It was America. Since they can shop the embassy store, when I opened the fridge they had things like Cool-Whip, Tollhouse chocolate chips, and American cereal. They treated us extremely well and gave us tons of food for the two nights we stayed there. Here I am relaxing at their pool before getting ready and heading to the big fete.

While I do hate spending a lot of time in Yaounde, this go around was quite interesting to say the least. During routine medical check-ups got the all clear. No parasites or such! One day I was in PC meetings all morning to then be picked up by a car from the British Council and taken to lunch with four other british expats and then spent the rest of the day sipping tea and watching tv on a couch. The next I was at a World Bank NGO Fair supporting Jake as he was trying to help his NGO qualify for a grant of $10 million CFA. The World Bank is trying shift its image and focus alot more on NGO funding at the grassroot level. Then the next on the radio after a reporter followed me and another PCV around in Casino (largest supermarket in Yaounde)for a piece he was doing on expat purchasing habits. Yep, days can be really random and rather unpredictable at times here.

Before heading back East, decided to take the weekend to head back to visit my host family in Bafia for the weekend. They were very proud to host me. My mom is a very good cook and made all of my favorite foods I had while living there. Kim is the volunteer currently living there while training.

Warning: I indulged myself with words so you don't have to read it all, but there are pictures!

So, what happens when you live in Africa and one of your best friends whom you have known since sixth grade gets married? No question, I go home! This couldn't be yet another one of those photo updates on facebook I constantly see that I wasn't apart of. The journey included an overnight flight to Zurich, a 12 hour flight to San Francisco, and then a hour flight into Ontario, CA. The dusty ruralness of Batouri to the crowded, organized metropolis of Southern California was an immense jump, but once your're home, it's home again immediately and it feels like you never left:). Cameroon seemed far away, although went through major deja vu for the first few days. Best moment on the trip home besides being welcomed by my entire family at the airport was going through customs in San Francisco and being greeted by scenic montages of the USA on tvs followed by random Americans on those same screens saying "welcome to the united states of America!"

As soon as I landed, things kicked off right away! First morning I was up at 3 am. Coming from Eastern Cameroon where the supply of food can be lacking in diversity, I went to entertain myself in those early morning hours by making some tea and rooting through the fridge. I opened the refrigerator a good 20 times getting excited over foods such as a bag of carrots, blueberries & strawberries, feta cheese, and cereal!

Though I was too happy to worry about any reverse culture shock, in the short time I was home I did notice I complained a lot less. Coming from a tropical climate with no air-conditioning, I never thought to complain of the heat and in fact found myself bundling up in restaurants or turning it down in the car. My sense of vanity has changed. My beauty regime is a very simple one. That of slathering on lotions to combat the sun and constantly having to wash some form of sweat or dirt off my body. For me feeling feminine is wearing a piece of jewelry and a dash of perfume. It doesn't really differ from that. Getting a mani/pedi, haircut, daily wearing some form of makeup, blowing drying my hair, and dressing in clothes I could never wear a post felt a bit of a luxury. Though on the other hand, being back in an environment where people were much more occupied with it than I'm used to was a bit of an adjustment. Also I had to constantly fight not to litter and feel terrible about it the first few months in Cameroon, but now the role reversal was I had to fight my first inclination to roll down the window and throw trash out!

I will feel regret if I do not mention how much I was impressed and overcome by the immense support/love I received from my family and friends while home, both from near and far. Although I may be tucked in a rural corner of the world, it was refreshing to know that I was not forgotten and in the short time home it seemed I was able to step right back into my life. Those fears were definetly quenched. There were many interesting questions and a lot of people asking for African stories. Everybody was very encouraging and understanding that to live on her own for two years in Africa is just something crazy enough Janelle would do.

Two frequent questions I received: "Are you having fun/excited to go back?", and "would you do it all over again?" I was excited to go back. Refeshing to be home and to share my experience with friends and laugh and be teased about everything from coming home and finding my trash spread across my front yard, my inability to keep a camera, and even some of the harassment I receive. It made me realize that this really is all an adventure, so enjoy it as much as possible! Its not forever, a unique experience to see first-hand this way of life, and there is definelty stories to be told! Reconnecting with family and friends and receiving their support I know will help me through the most difficult part of this experience - the ruralness/isolation that living in Batouri can sometimes bring.

I have never regret coming. Not always a cakewalk, but overall enjoying myself. Great experience in life to have. Would I do it all over again? If I was going to be a new volunteer most definetly. However, I feel after my second year of this I will be ready to move on to something different. Something a bit less remote with an easier connection home. True fact, those grad school applications have been started!

And here is the awesome time that was home (couldn't include everything. loading pictures this time around took some time and was a bit of a pain in the arse. to see me salsa dancing, bachelorette partying it up, and with other friends i'm pulling the lazy card and referring you to facebook, if we're friends) ...

Too many people to see, too little time! Hosted a dinner party and here are some of my wonderful friends who could make it who were in the area. My friend Andrea offered to bring dessert. Knowing her love of cooking delectable desserts didn't hesitate to accept the offer, but never imagined her showing up with these cakes!

Some of the thoughtful things I was welcomed home with. The cake toppers to the now deflated balloons that greeted me at the airport and a bouquet of flowers from Adeline. My mom once asked me to choose a charm that would make her think of me. I chose a U.S. passport.

The wedding was up in the mountains behind where I live. On the ten day forecast everyday was warm and sunny, save for the actual day of the wedding - cold and drizzly. There were no complaints when it was decided to move the ceremony indoors. Luckily things cleared up and the sun came out in time to take pictures. Gave it a try at curling my hair and wearing high heels for the first time in over a year! My parents were also in attendance.

Wedding, check! Time for relaxation, I think not. I passed the rest of my time at home making sure I got to eat what I wanted and see who I wanted. Not an easy task! I enjoyed a social life that was dramatically different then what I have been used to, but I was busy, busy, busy. Options to do in the evening?! Weird. I did make it to the beach :D Important things to notice in this picture besides the beach, the fact that I am wearing shorts and something white!

I miss having places to go to where I can chill out, study, read a book, etc. Places that aren't bars or a place that draws a lot of attention to me. Here I am with Menaka, one of my best friends, enjoying a long overdue catch up chat over coffee.

Then before I knew it, time to head back. Had with me some good food, supplies, and a replaced camera and computer! Geared up again for several long hours of travel, but was able to have enough of a layover in San Francisco and my Uncle Jeff free at the moment from work that he was able to pick me up and take me out for lunch. Right before another 12 hour overnight flight back to Frankfurt, on the Airbus 380 (largest plane in the world!).

But, wait! Vacation wasn't over just yet. It being my fourth time passing through the Zurich airport, I decided what better time then the present to go out and explore the city. As you can imagine, in this experience Zurich will always hold special memories. Both going to London and home it was the first and last development I have seen. It was a good choice. Zurich was a fun time. For all that I have lived in Europe, I was happy to finally be seeing it in summer! Sightseeing, eating at outdoor cafes, lounging in parks, meeting a lot of people from all over the world, retail-therapy at my favorite European stores. Best place to meet people? At a pub wherever there is a football (soccer) game. This time it was Switzerland vs. England. Brought my camera out for a bit of the adventures.

Needed proof it was me taking the photos! Although at this point up 30 hours and counting and trying the technique of staying up and waiting till dark to sleep - well, I hit the pillow hard just a few hours after this was taken.

Then it was back to Cameroon. Not even an hour back in Yaounde and I made my way over to greet the new SED/ED training group who were staying at the exact same hotel I was a year ago when my training group first arrived. They were asking me a lot of questions and it was weird to seem the expert! My advice to the newcomers, keep a sense of humor, don't be too hard on yourself, and try your best to stick through the initial frustrations-they will pass. Now with a year under my belt the second year advice to myself is to get out of post, as much as possible. I feel accomplished and happy to have taken the first year to be at post learning french, becoming well integrated, and finding work so I can feel I have contributed and left something behind for Batouri. Fabulous. Cheers to hopefully the hardest part of this experience being behind me! Now when i'm at post I can benefit from all of that grunt work. However this experience is really what you make it, and now its time to experience more of Cameroon!

Happy Canada Day!

The following link is to a video that has gone Peace Corps viral on volunteers facebooks all over, definetly so in Cameroon. I wanted to share this with you all, but as to not be yet another person who posts this on facebook, I will avoid that and go straight to the blog. Its entertaining because its pretty true. Many of you who I keep as regular contact as possible with will recognize some of these, uh, challenges/experiences, haha. Being sick, just wanting to help, keeping a journal for a bit,internet, making it through a day, projects going down! So I thought to share with you my lovely friends and family just how life can sometimes be in Cameroon for a Peace Corps Volunteer put to the words in a youtube videdo called "Poop in a Hole" by Pacific Love from Peace Corps Vanuatu. I myself have a toilet at my house (but have used many latrines) and it made the African homeowner in me very proud when I finally got a toilet seat that didn't break the first time I sat on it!

Because i've proven myself not technology savy and the slowness of internet against me, i will just post the links and see what happens. You might have to go search for it from the link given. So enjoy, and I hope you find it amusing as we do here in Cameroon!

Yep, life is not too different ;) ...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koUWaAr-itY

So on a random note, a Kenyan/Brit visiting Batouri while in town to see Ed's tobacco company awhile back gave me a phrase in terms of African colonization that I repeated to a volunteer today. That the English left an institution, France a language, Germans left buildings, and the Belgians...disaster. The Cameroonian among us agreed and it sparked quite interesting a discussion. So far from what i've learned/seen from living here where Cameroon as been colonized by three out of those four countries I can't disagree with that. So I promise more blogs coming soon than just the once a month! Summer travel is keeping me busy, but I am now equipped with a new computer and internet key :D

After about another four months, i've again left the east and am now waiting in Yaounde for vacation to begin! All this has got me thinking of the past few months and I think i'll make this post a bit of a reflective one. Now that i'm a year in, I look back and organize it into different 3/4 month segments. My arrival and training in Bafia where I lived with a host family. Then my first few months pre-vacation/London at post adjusting to living on my own, the culture, language, etc. And, post-vacation/London finding work and pre-vacation/home. Confusing? If I could spend 24/7 induldging myself in cultural integration I would be just as happy but unforunately it doesn't work like that. So, I spent these last few months snuggling into post, expanding my friendships, and going on the hunt for work to help occupy my time. Coming in and being told by my predecessor that this wasn't a post where one could really find work and another volunteer was being transferred from the east because she apparently couldn't find work, well if you know me, you know just how much that challenge made me have to proove them wrong! And that was my past few months...

Being a more seasoned volunteer, I can advise any future volunteers to expect many projects to fail. I'm on four or five now. I knew this but its always the first one thats a bit hard, especially one with potential. It was a mango fruit-drying project with CAR refugees to give them some income to be able to not just sit around and wait for all these aid organizations to give them food. I realize now it probably was just a bit too ambitious for a lone PCV. Unfortunately, the timing of the service of a SED volunteer with mango season and the requirements for funding meant it couldn't qualify for any. Thus, if anybody wants to start one of the first fruit-drying projects in Eastern Cameroon there is a project proposal & buget awaiting them!

I gave my bank several ideas for projects, all of which were accepted. However, when I would go to start any my director/counterpart just kept switching them up on me and changing the ideas so that they became so watered down I got tired of it and decided to focus on looking around town for projects. Great idea but, in an area not known for its work ethic and me being a women, a bit of a challenge. Some lost interest when they found out they had to do work, I wasn't guaranteeing finance, or was not going to date any of them.

"Janelle, you can help me with my business?" Ok. For a couple days write down what you sell and buy so we can get an idea of your cash flow and then maybe a list of your expenses to get a rough idea if your even making a profit because your money in between stacks of fabric not the most accurate way. Coming back after a few days, it didn't suprise me to see nothing written down. "Ah, thats too much work, i've been operating this business for several years and been fine. Why should I write it down?" If I can't convince them, I try to just direct them places where they can focus on saving the money they do have.

"So, you're a small economic development volunteer, that means you come with money, right?" Enough said. Its become really easy for me to tell now the projects where people are just wanting money. I've seen $$$ signs going off in some heads and I've listened through several crazy project ideas because of it. Business isn't just how to get financing but also improving what you've already got.

" Are you married?" Yes sir, I am. Community people come into the bank all the time and I've come to know many people. While harrassment on the street i've grown accustomed to, having people pull me aside to talk about projects but in reality do nothing but the sort but tell me they love me, no thank you. No, me asking the ages of your five kids doesn't mean I want to hear that I please you. That even though your wife lives in the northwest would I go out with you. Or for that matter let you work with me just so I can take you to America. A recent aha moment, for a woman realizing best possible way to work...women & children.

In truth, its all about who you know. Not to be said arrogantly, but I did rely on my strength of networking. Knowing the head of a logging company put me in touch with a reforestation project. I've helped oversee the planting of about 9,000 trees there while helping the agricultural co-ops that work the land to find financing to plant in between the trees which turn apparently helps the soil. Lesson learned: living 4 degrees away from the equator means the sun is stronger than you think. Take every precaution necessary! Sad to have seen that all the trees couldn't be planted since we've not really experienced a true rainy season. Sigh, climate change.

I'm in town alot if not at the bank but hanging with friends. Sitting in my friend Baba's fabric store watching with others on TV the speech of the newly elected Benin President, I was explaining the concept of marketing to one of them. With this I realized that my french could hold out for a presentation. Now, I will be going into the meetings of the bank's associations that are made up of business people and presenting various business topics. Being in town also brought me in touch with dutch ex-pats visiting from Batouri's sister city in Holland. They introduced me to several of their projects, one of which is a lady who runs an orphanage for kids who are handicap (mentally or physically). They either have no parents or their parents don't want the responsibility of taking care of them. Teaching around 15-20 African kids english starting with the alphabet keeps me wholly entertained (since grammar is mostly excluded & games abound!), and i'm profiting from my sisters experience in child development to help me design activities for them.

Exploring Batouri, also put me in touch with the UN World Food Program there. Until recently I wasn't even aware it existed. I wasn't sure with the UN backing if it would be possible, but it was one of my easiest projects yet! It didn't take much to convince them, and upon returning from vacation wil, through the aid of an interpretor (me into french them french into fulfulde), try to teach the farmers of a program the WFP finances how they can market their products, make budgets, etc.

Well in a way, thats 3 1/2 months in a nutshell. It is also not to say oh look at me and my work, but for me to share my accomplishment of hard work and offer potential ideas for incoming SEDers! This is not to be said all these projects will work there is still a kernel of truth in the stereotype, however now a year in i'm comfortable at post, i've got some work...let the second year begin! Too those of you who've heard me vent the frustrations, just saying thanks. And now...vacation! How many days now? Wait, what? Is that a plane at the airport I see with a seat that has my name on it?????

My internet situation continues to be just that-a situation.

And in an addendum to the post below, my computer is now suffering the effects of that power surge and refuses to reliably turn on. With a new power cord I was able to enjoy a few days of internet, but then Ed's internet itself broke. They replaced the whole system but continuing on this theme of luck, it did not recognize itself on any of Jackie, Jessica, nor my computer. At this whole time, my bank weirded me out a bit by deciding to become so modern by breaking down walls and expanding inside and installing internet to a few of the computers. So I have that availabiltity, although asking someone working if I could interrupt their work so I could check facebook doesn't really guarantee me quality internet time. But here's the good news! Peace Corps finally put internet and computers in the transit house in Bertoua. It may be 10 months after originally promised, but it means now that when I come to Bertoua for a day or two each month i'm getting more than an hour or two I pay for at an internet cafe. That and I can get it whenever I want and not wait months on end to upload photos! So how shall I celebrate? How about some long awaiting photos to this blog! Since i'm in Bertoua, let's start with the most recent trip to Bertoua. Making burgers and fries for some Cameroonian friends.

I really, really lucked out in that it was only two weeks until a new power cord arrived. Very grateful to Ed (the American tobacco company owner) who just so happened to be making a visit from his home in Miami. How was two weeks without any internet? Well of course I survived but, to be honest, at this point would be okay without a repeat! And yes I'm feeling extremely spoiled and a bit guilty in sharing that. Wait a second, it basically was a repeat! Can't believe I almost forget I went about two months without stable internet as soon as I first got to Batouri. Operating system wigged out on me. So much appreciation goes out to the PCVs that did exactly what i'm doing but left their families with little to no contact during their two years! No option for internet meant I did search out more time with friends in town to spend with in the afternoons which is enjoyable for me. However, a strict eye was kept on my watch and a countdown to Ed's arrival. He called me in the morning saying he arrived and by the afternoon I was watching cable tv (in english!), sipping a cold beverage, and spending the next 4 hours catching up with everything. A new record of internet time here for me. Its all about the little things and he very much indulges us while here:)

At the moment things in Batouri were going well, usual frustrations aside, so much that it was becoming predictably stable. That is to say I started feeling I was beginning to know what to get out from post. Hitting a potential stride might be in order! When Ed is in town we usually have a few dinners at his place and stay late talking and enjoying his company. It was again such an occurance and he had just dropped me off at my house when I entered and immediately sensed something amiss. My window had been broken and was wide open! While I was gone in the evening, somebody decided to slit the screen and force open my window to see what treasures they might find on my table-it was a lot of effort and apparently worthwhile for that person. My curtains are always closed when I am gone. They had no way of knowing that that particular morning when I was on my way out I decided last moment I didn't want my camera with me and took it out of my bag. Being too lazy to put it back in my room I left it on the corner of my table. Even though there are bars on my windows they had stuck a stick with a hook in through those bars and got away with my camera! I was unsettled encountering it by myself late at night. Jessica had traveled so I was unable to call her over. Spending the rest of the week dealing with the police, getting the necessary paperwork for insurance,and trying to arrange with my landlord to get my window fixed left me mentally exhausted. Usually I hate spending a lot of time at home at one time. I need to get out doing something or seeing people. Though this time I was very grateful for the rare event of electricity three days in a row and had no problem spending most of it at home recharging my batteries.

Well that situation is now in the past. I've moved on, but it is now added to my list of ever growing proof how electronics, Janelle, & Africa are like oil & water. This situation made me reflect just on what i've accumulated on that list! So much so I decided to share. Hopefully putting this out there might slow down any new additions that may be to come. Computer will be getting one thorough checkup when at home. Except for the situations in which I lost my cameras, I do find this amusing and hope you do as well. My dad and I shared a chuckle over the phone together when I shared this with him. In the near 11 months I have been in country I have:

- gone through and upgraded an operating system

- fried a computer cord

- gone through 4 telephones so much that i'm on 5 and counting

- had 2 cameras stolen and waiting to get my 3rd here soon when i head home

(insurance is worth it!)

Yep, like oil & water! Ugh(slapping hand to forehand and shaking head) the luck, lol!

With my aptitude at expressing myself always, self-admittedly, being a work in progress let’s see how I can organize the recent happenings and my current jumble of thoughts into sentence form. Warning: one might end up kicking back and settling themselves in for some reading for this. Post is going really smoothly, though sometimes it seems sometimes I can make two huge leaps forward only to take one gigantic step back. But, such is life you say, no? So here is what you missed in Batouri.

International Women’s Day was March 8. Lots of women were out in the morning to march with their different groups/associations in a parade all wearing their women’s day pagne. This year’s theme in Cameroon, Women: Unavoidable Development Partners. Yes, I know, definitely not one of the more eloquent themes. While Jessica, Jackie, and I didn’t march we sat on the sidelines and watched. The festivities left (yawn) much to be desired, so we passed the time remarking on the different designs in which the women tailored their individual pagnes. If anything was actually done in the way of women empowerment I do not know, but true to form for a fête day in Batouri by the time I joined everybody again in town in the evening all the bars along the street were full of people drinking and dancing. Only difference this time women for once far outnumbered men.

On the home front, I feel very accomplished! From the time I first moved in till now I’ve put in a lot of time ameliorating my house. Unfortunately, now regret a bit not taking that before pic. Although at the time didn’t have fuzzy feelings for it as I was in the midst of deep cleansing, painting, or running away from the frequent spontaneous appearance of huge errant spiders. The last of the things on my original to do list that I saved for, and by no means the least important, was checked off in the purchase of a wardrobe for my clothes. Before all I inherited was a table in my bedroom where I organized my clothes into plastic storage bags. Dramatic difference now as I can actually see all the clothes I own and who knew one could underestimate how much closet organization can do for ones frame of mind at home (especially picking out what to wear) let alone the aesthetics to a room! I called Jessica (a.k.a. neighbor) over as she at the time was the only one who could appreciate it with me. The purchase in the same day of silverware that wouldn’t rust after two uses was only the icing on the cake.

If there is luck in this world, then where phones in Cameroon are considered I have none. Almost ten months in and I’m on five and counting. To put that in a little perspective, my post mates are still on their original phones and I just replaced my fourth a month and a half ago. My first had bad sound quality, second sadly stolen in the incident in Kribi, third screen cracked, and fourth screen just went white when I plugged it in. Permit me to vent a little more in this misfortune in that the last two phones broke in extremely similar situations. They both broke in the evening and I started off the very next morning flooding my kitchen by forgetting that I was filling up my water reserves. The first time this happened I had by the end of the morning one of the worst ones I have had a post yet. So by the time this happened again a month and a half later I made sure there were different outcomes. Frankly, that was not hard at all. The first go around did not start just with a broken phone and flooded kitchen, but also with a deluge of harassment in the form of Nassara/La Blanche (white person) one-liners (i.e. “take me to the states with you”, “I love you”, “give me money”, “you are my wife”, “you will have my kids”, etc.) while trying to eat breakfast at the omelet shack, a crazy person following me up and down the street yelling at me while trying to buy a phone, a group of guys making fun of my French while purchasing it, and a project that I worked hard on for two months literally fall apart in the span of an hour. I had by lunchtime vacated my town and thankfully there was electricity so I cheered myself up by barricading myself behind the compound walls where I get internet and connected with the world by talking with people back home :).

Most amusing for me as been, as the Anglophones say here, making sport. Last month I started running again after too long an absence. Knee so far is holding out! Talking about this at my bank inspired the accountant Abdoulaye to join me. Soon after that two other guys at my bank joined in. My director has even been known to drop by occasionally for a run around the track with us. It doesn’t stop there. Jessica even was convinced to join. So what started out one has now become a consistent five. Jackie runs too but prefers the solo trek. I’ve even become a bit lazy on the days when Abdoulaye can’t make the sport since he comes and picks Jessica & me up on his moto. After running, Abdoulaye now leads out in stretching & ab work, even members of the community join in with us occasionally since there are several people that run each morning at the track. Thus, ironically, unintended side project – getting my bank fit.

Speaking of keeping in touch, I have realized that at this stage of the game it has become very important, if nothing else but for my mentality and to abate any onset feelings of homesickness. When I joined the Peace Corps all I asked for was a francophone country. There was no control over being chosen for Cameroon and thus Batouri. Post lends itself to my personality well enough, however sometimes the East leaves me a bit frustrated. In this instant, the social access to people with a similar language and culture. Volunteers are very spread out and travel difficult. Picture a red dirt, dusty African road lined with the occasional small red mud brick villages along the route and that’s what I travel every time I leave post. 90k with public transportation takes me with luck a minimum of two and a half hours (record still stands at five and a half). We are eight here in the East. Three in Batouri, two in Bertoua (regional capital) then rest are scattered around by themselves in small villages. These difficulties have recently sometimes resulted in feelings of, what would that be…remoteness? Don’t get me wrong, I love the opportunity this gives me for integration, both culturally and linguistically. That’s why I came and I do put lots of effort into this. However, it’s the feelings of remoteness that come when there are sometimes now at almost ten months in when I just want to be well understood, being open and social without regard to cultural faux pas or potential nuisances from guys. To see the nearest volunteer is 90k to my right and 120k to my left. I have two post mates, but yet, I have only those two post mates. Fortunate to have them for they will in the end be the only ones who truly understand it here and we get along well. I’m closest with the volunteers that are four hours on either side of me.

So what am I going to do about it? I’ve decided to save for an internet key so I can get internet from home at any time. All that is required is battery power on my computer. I’m living out day to day in this rural community and it’s nice to be connected with the outside occasionally. I have been getting it for free and was very inclined to continue this from an American who owns a tobacco company here; however, electricity for the last month and a half has been cutting almost every morning and coming back every night. Great that I can charge things at night, but it ruins any chance at internet. Most stable internet is towards the end of each month when I head to Bertoua for banking and picking up supplies. Once a week at internet guaranteed, twice lucky, three times is virtually unheard of. Just looking for some stability. Hek, sometimes I decide to squander the precious time and indulge myself by uploading photos to Facebook –1 & ½ hours for 5 photos! Besides grad schools applications are coming up soon—eek.

If I have not found a stable project outside of my bank yet, it is definitely not for lack of trying. The mentality of people here can be difficult to work with. I knew this from site-visit and was well-informed and encouraged by my director and other Cameroonians before moving to post. The most well-known characteristic/ of the local ethnic group that inhabits this area is their love of leisure time, or more bluntly, laziness. I’ve made countless attempts, however the feasibility of the project or the commitment level of the people has left me occasionally discouraged but my persistence is (crossing fingers) paying off in the way of an agroforesty/business venture. Logging is a huge industry in the east. We know the owner of one of the biggest logging companies who resides here in Batouri and he collaborates with a few NGO’s in a reforestation project. They are teaching me all about reforestation. Letting me come and spend time at their tree farm where they start as roots and going to their plantation to see how they are planted. I also am working with a few agricultural co-ops in writing a business plan so they can find the necessary financing for seed money to be able to grow crops at the tree plantation.

Home is on the horizon…56 days and counting! It will be a week full of wedding festivities, wonderful company, and delicious food. Then it’s on to three days of relaxation, sightseeing, and more yummy food in Zurich before heading back to Cameroon and the start of my second year!

P.S. Well I tried for internet earlier this week to post this, and I was about upload it when I fell victim to a massive power surge. That’s right power cord is fried! A new one is already on its way but until then no power cord means no computer means no internet. Sure I wanted to cry as I saw it going up in smoke, but really I’m laughing now as I post this in Bertoua. I’m laughing mainly at the irony to which I was blogging about earlier! Oh well, whats done is done. Welcome to my African life, lol!

I myself am interested to know if I will ever be able to describe a typical day! Having gotten over initial frustrations, I am getting more comfortable with my life and the way of things in Batouri. However, no one day is the same. This as you can imagine presents many pros and cons. In training we often said that our day starts when we undo our mosquito nets to get out and ends when they are tucked in at night. During this time period it was definitely true as one of the first people we faced everyday was somebody from our host family, thus French in your face first thing in the morning. This still holds some truth as each day one doesn’t know what to expect. A morning can be great, but an afternoon horrible. Sometimes it even comes down to moments. It’s this constant fluctuation in which I find myself currently living. These are the days when I find myself continually saying, “well, just another day at post!” Here is just a little summary of Sunday February 6-Saturday the 12th, to give you some idea.

Sunday: 4 km outside of Batouri came across an unfortunate accident. Everyone was surrounding the back of a camion (large trucks that transport fuel, logs, etc.) so when I was able to get to it saw they were surrounding three people on a moto that the camion had just run over. Moto was disintegrated and the people died instantly. Sad to say that was first thing in the morning and that marked the rest of the day for me. Another volunteer from the East was in for a visit. We were shooken up about it, but I enjoyed having her for the rest of the day. We chilled, watched TV shows, had fish dinner, and went out for drinks.

Monday: Was up and ready for my first run ever here, but it decided to rain. After taking volunteer to the agence (place where you grab a "bus" when traveling), ran back home in the rain just to crawl into bed and go back to sleep. Spent the rest of the morning at my bank studying french. Spent few hours in afternoon at internet then grabbed some food at the market before heading home to make dinner. Highlight of the evening was talking to my dad for the first time since coming back from London.

Tuesday: Went running for the first time! Intended to spend day at bank, but went to get a sign painted for our girls club so they could use it for the upcoming youth day parade. The Minister for Small Economic Development called me over to his office. After chatting for a bit (not on projects as I had hoped), he took me out to lunch. Upon returning to the bank, found Abdoulaye the accountant and good friend on his way out to do errands. I asked him what he had to do and he said that the moto driver in the accident was his cousin and he was going out to gather death certificates for him to give to the insurance company of the camion (btw driver has yet to be found, he fled into the bush directly after it happened). He asked if i wanted to accompany him and I said yes. It was an interesting afternoon learning how information such as death certificates is gathered here and learned a bit on Muslim beliefs and practices as far as death is concerned. Broke into my cereal that I brought back from London. Its such a treat that here it has become dinner food :) So tired, into bed and asleep by 8:30.

Wednesday:Second day in a row giving it a go at running. En route to bank when I got a call by my anglophone friend Jupiter. Electricity was finally stable enough after being on and off repeatedly last couple days to be able to call a technician to install my satellite! Spent all morning get it hooked. It was a success, but only for a few minutes as electricity was cut again until evening. Went to girls club where this week we were watching 50 First Dates dubbed in french with english subtitles. Dinner at Jessica's was one of my favorites here in Cameroon, Cabbage and peanut sauce over rice.

Thursday: Arrival of rainy season will soon be upon us. Woke up in the middle of the night to a strong downpour. After 8 months in Cameroon, i'm finally starting to find rain on a tin roof somewhat calming and not something that keeps me up the whole night! Spent afternoon getting hair braided by girls in our girl club for youth day the next day. We are not all wearing the same clothes but they were very particular that all our hair be braided the same way. Mmmm, had our weekly dinner of bifteck again. Each thursday is bifteck night with postmates. Bifteck (steak in engligh) is cut up with tomatoes, sometimes peas, and mixed with some sauce/broth and of course this is African/Muslim cooking so the oil content must not be anything but alot! Oh and its served with a scoop of mayonnaise. Go figure. Add some good hot powder they make from dried peppers serve it with rice and call it a good meal. The owner where we eat the bifteck is a good friend, so he always gives us chai tea with it. Bifteck & Chai tea is a very muslim thing here.

Friday: Happy youth day! They love anything to celebrate here. Youth day is big as all the local schools come together to march in front of the local level of the government. Showed up at 8:30, however big mistake as I did not take Africa time into consider and thus waited 4 and 1/2 hours before parade actually started. We marched with girls club. We waited so long to literally walk 300 yards and everybody when they reached where the local authorities were sitting stuck out there right arm out to salute them. So much waiting for so little parading. But this being a fete day meant everybody was in town eating or drinking the rest of the day.

Spent the evening watching a movie with my postmate Jackie and our Cameroonian friend Jupiter. Also good thing about being a fete day, electricity was on the whole day! Popcorn with the possibility of a cold drink, something I don't take for granted anymore!

Saturday:Went for a run in the morning then lounged around as I partook in some TV time :) Good to feel connected with the world in some way. Hosted one of my Muslim woman neighbors Hadijatou at my place for a bit. Been making the effort to get to know more women! Electricity holding so was able to go for internet two days in a row! Since the American, Ed Nader, who owns a local tobacco company where I get my internet, was coming for a visit his employees cleaned his pool. So we take full advantage of that! After that continued with my goal of having more woman friends as I went to a friends house where the woman there showed me how to make eggs wrapped in beef. I have since gone back several times to get henna painted on my hands. They are teaching me a lot about hospitality, even invited me to Muslim wedding! Woman,if not in particular Muslim women, have turned out to be such gracious hosts.

So there is just one week in a nutshell. The days are always different and there are constant fluctuations and a roller coaster of emotions, but what I have learned most from my experience thus far is how important it is to face everyday with a positive attitude. I have lots I could be negative about, but the motto I have chosen to live by for my time here is that, "nothing works, but everything works out." I'm very grateful for the experiences i've had that remind me where I am in the world. Two years in my life will not be forever, so when things are difficult I just try to appreciate what this all is teaching me. So...African hospitality, some of the best i've ever had. Positive attitude a must.

Yes, it is several weeks after my actual return from vacation, but it was very noteworthy as this vacation was to the first-world! As a sidenote, I should mention after Kribi I did make an attempt to climb Mount Cameroon on Christmas. I feel accomplished enough to say I spent christmas eve on the side of it at a altitute of around 3000 meters. However, bloody heels and being miserable coupled with an altogether sentiment that I wanted to revive some christmas spirit/cheer made me decide to tourn around. The descent was just as difficult and it led to any small step downwards (even with my by then acquired walking stick) the slowest and most painful descent I have ever done. Christmas was revived at Bill & Trixy's with great food, christmas lights/music, excellent company, and a christmas movie. All more to my liking :)

Onto London. It was awesome! Having already been too London several times, it was really just a chance to see my parents and get some R&R. I could regale you with all the adventures, but I will leave all that to hopefully pictures that I can one day post (internet here is too slow for that :( ). After living in Cameroon for almost 7 months at this point, it was definetly weird to be back in such a civilized world. More, to even feel like a visitor in this world I used to know so well. I did have my list of things to eat, as I had told my parents I was trumping them on all food matters. Not every choice was met, most unforunately, but I did go above and beyond my expectation where cheese is concerned :). Body may have said slow down a couple times, but I have no regrets. So let me sum this up by saying what was very noticeable to me coming out of my third-world life for a quick breath of air. I was thankful for: great customer service, reliable/on-time transportation, retail-therapy as I know it to be, great food, and anonymity. The anonymity was really the breath of fresh air. Not being watched wherever I go/whatever I do, being called white in every language around here, hearing I love you's and requests to take them back to the U.S., and not just so blatantly standing out. It went by too fast. It was a nice way to enter into 2011, coincidentally the entirety of which will be based here in Batouri, Cameroon. Hard to adjust the first couple days back just from the extremes from which I transitioned. Though, it must be said that it was an easier transition than first thought. Since by then it was a break from post, yet I knew more the way of things when I did get back. London trip = success :D. oh and p.s. to this post. Treated myself to a haircut and came back to Cameroon not only with a real cut but alsot as a brunette!

Ahhh, vacation, finally! The peace corps requires that we stay at post for the first three months of our service. This helps us in getting to know our community. After in-service training which I just finished, volunteers are free to take vacation and travel elsewhere in country. My travel/vacation plans this month are Kribi (meetings all day with beach in the evenings), climbing mount cameroon in Buea, and (most exciting) New year's in London with the parents. By the time I make it back to Batouri, I will have been a month away from post. I have no complaints as to the timing of this vacation.

So Kribi. I got there a day and a half early with three others just enjoy being at the beach before everyone else arrived. This was probably my favorite time of the week. We found a secluded beach 15k down the road of which we had to wade through jungle bookesque streams and crab-filled beaches to get to but worth all of it! This is where I can say skinny-dipping off the coast of Africa if it was ever on my check list of things to do, it is now checked! It quickly ended as a volunteer swimming close by was stung by a jellyfish. That put a quick stop to things. And yes, I now know several ways to treat jellyfish stings.

As the week continued, it was nice seeing all the volunteers that I did training with as well as being introduced to a lot of other volunteers. Being in the east where we are small in numbers it was a treat. During presentations, we shared pictures or stories of what our different posts were like. As soon as 5:00 came and we were dismissed it was a mad rush to the beach. However as the week dragged on, there was a fair amount of us that were falling sick. Of course the hospital diagnosed them with malaria, since its the catch-all when they are unsure. The ones still sick at the end of the week went back with the medical officers to Yaounde for further testing. The saying by the end of the week was that those robbed were the healthy ones.

And so that leads me into the end of the week. Yes, we were robbed and by gun-point most unfortunately. I share this not to freak anybody out, but to be honest about the experience. However, because of my audience I will be vague in some details. I believe it was caused for two main reasons: we were a large group of white people who had been hanging out at the same beach for several days at this point and it was around 10 at night. 21 PCVs in total were involved. We had made a bonfire earlier that night and at the point when it happened half had decided for a late night swim while the rest of us were at our bar/local hangout for the week at the beach. Three men entered firing warning shots in the air. We did nothing but hit the ground while they went around the table grabbing all of our bags. Within less than a minute it was over. Those watching from the ocean could tell more what went down. They walked away with my purse, wallet, & sadly my camera. We immediately called Peace Corps. When they arrived, the compliment we all received from everybody was how calm under pressure we were. And thus it came to be that it was not with the saddest of feelings that I bid adieu to Kribi.

Now I am in Buea staying with Bill Colwell and Trixy Franke, a couple that run the Buea SDA hospital. It has been some great R&R while I gear up for the trek up Mount Cameroon. Best moment of the week: walking into their house after a long day of travel to see a christmas tree and lights with christmas music playing. How comforting to the soul. Who knew it could be such a mood-lifter or how much I've missed it. :)

Probably not really publicized in the more developed regions of the world, but in a country where it is prevelant there was a lot more acknowledgement of it. Specifically at the high schools. Jackie & I started a girls club at the local Lycee Bilingue (bi-lingual high school). Thus named for it following both the french & enlish school systems. We have a pretty consistent number of girls (knock on wood) that have come so far. The plan is that we teach a topic for three weeks and then the fourth we have a fun day. Our first fun day was an exchange of dance. I taught the girls salsa dance and in turn they were supposed to teach me a Cameroonian dance. Were is the important word in that last sentence. There were too shy too.

But let me bring things back on topic. We just finished discussing AIDS/SIDA so when the administration organized a panel discussion for the day they incorporated our already organized plans for the day by inviting some girls to come up and speak to the whole school on the specifics they learned about the symptoms, contraction, myth/facts about the disease, etc. After this, Jackie & I got up to demonstrate to the whole school how to correctly use both the male and female condom. The female condom because of its little use or knowledge of caused some intrigue, but you could only imagine how much high schoolers would get riled up when these two white girls brough out a wooden penis to demonstrate the correct usage for a male condom. Oh how I wish internet access here wasn't too slow to attach pictures. May we all celebrate to be in good health!

Well there we have it. In terms of things i've accomplished thus far in Africa, falling sick, check. The whole following post will be discussing my recent bout on the sick side, but know that antibiotics do wonders and restored me to health! I've done pretty well at avoiding sickness as compared with other people I trained with. I was almost six months in. What starting with a little cramping turned into a full blown fever and passing my day prostrate on the counch or enjoying countless trips to the bathroom. While I can't pinpoint what specifically I do know that it was something I ate. [yes, mom I know you are in your head telling me i need to be more careful with food] Hospital exams blamed it on too much bacteria in my system, or officially put...bacterial dysentery. On their records I did have "a little" malaria, but they are overly cautious with that disease and will over diagnosis. PCVs have no qualms about having a "poop talk", but for my first-world friends/family who might be a little more squeamish, let's just say there was no doubt in my mind I wasn't healthy.

So what's a trip to a third-world hospital in Batouri? Surprisingly,not so bad. Waiting, which one comes to expect, on the other hand not fun. Here is when receiving prefential treatment for being white was to my advantage. The doctor is the supervisor of, Jackie, the health volunteer here so he took me in soon as I arrived. Next came lab tests. The lab should open around nine but of course with the Africa time factor nobody came until 10:30. Luckily Jackie was there so I could pass the time with somebody. One pays for their own needle and antiseptic swab thingie so that quelched that fear. Now for stool sample? At this point, I had been having horrible cramps every twenty minutes since 3 A.M., so stool sample on command was unfortunately easily obliged. But what did I use for a stool sample you ask? Well among my choices given were to find mango leaf or plastic bag. I chose the latter. Pretty thankful to have received a negative for Typhoid. If you are curious enough, i'll let you google what you've eaten if you test positive for it. I fell sick with fever on a friday and it was better/worse, better/worse, until I woke it up with severe cramps Tuesday morning and my only direction for the next 5 hours was bed to bathroom and back. A weeks worth of antibiotics have brought me back to health. I have decided to de-worm myself for precaution sake every three months and lets pray/knock on wood there is not many more sickness to come!

I am feteing American style this weekend. All nine of us Easties are in Bertoua this weekend for a regional meeting. During which we each discuss what has been happening at post and address any concerns of the region we want to take to administration. Its refreshing to see all of us together. I get the chance to see how everybody is adjusting to post and discuss ways we are all coping. It helps putting things in perspective, even something simple as having a market everyday. I feel lucky, lucky, lucky, to say I have access to a SWIMMABLE swimming pool (just as long as there is electricity to clean it with)! Only other possibility is the ocean.

Okay, back on topic. Tonight is our halloween fete. Where other regions have more people and maybe can make it a big party, we will probably just be sitting around chatting, BUT some will be dressed up! Me included. East theme this year is Cameroonian. My take on that is food. I will be dressed up as piment (P.MA.NT.) Its a hot pepper here that is served with almost every dish. Did I mention its hot? I'm quick to grab the bowl when it is served on the table so that I can skim just the oil off the top before it gets mixed. People can have spoonfuls of it, I can manage only about 3 drops. Other highlightable moments on this trip: stocking up on some food, eating fish dinner (its a break from eating only beef and chicken here is expensive so that rarely happens), banana pancakes, baked macaroni & cheese, good bread,...okay i'm hungry.

So its been almost two months in Batouri now. Except for weekend trips to Bertoua, I cannot leave. It is required of volunteers to spend their first and last 3 months at post. The title for this post comes from the fact its the main feeling i've felt since arriving. Frustration for my language, for the culture and living here, and for figuring out what real sort of work i'm supposed to be doing.

The language will come, i'm sure of that. Slowly but surely. Not to mention the prescence of many ethnice languages, of which i've been learning a bit of Fulfulde here and there. My days usually consist of getting to the bank around 9 AM. I'm really not obligated to work my first 3 months, but merely supposed to observe and integrate into the culture. With this I use my time at the bank merely for French. To study it and pratice conversation. I've started trying to think of work I can do with a SED volunteer here in Batouri. I'm starting a girls club at one of the local high school's with my health postmate Jackie and there are plans for condom demonstrations on worls aid's day. My french is not quite there for business classes and the East is the least-developed region here, which is proven so to me by some mentalities of people I have encountered. This hasn't made thinking of projects and their prospect of success the most easy.

Having just said the East is the least-developed, with that it is also the most aggressive. As a volunteer you are always on the job 24/7 and I feel that here where it is like I'm on American Idol when I leave my house and everybody watches me as I walk since it is not so common to see many white people in this neck of the woods. Buit (pronounced like Bwe), Nassara, La Blanche, are all names I am frequently called as I walk the streets. It annoys me to know end when they call me that stating the obvious, but if I turn and all they want is to get my attention for a wave or to come up and greet me with a handshake thats okay. What has been bothering me the most is the stigma that white people are all rich. And sometimes here even with my Peace Corps salary and living in a house that sticks out like a sore thumb in my neighborhood only proves the stigma true. I've been asked for money, to give them things I'm wearing, a young girl coming to my house to give me her sob story again saying she needed $, and for me the saddest/hardest is being asked for food. Of course that doesn't even take into account the "i love you's." I was pulled into a conversation by a guy wanting just a word. He asked me in English so I relented. As soon as I sat down, he offered his love to me and asked to see me often. I immediately stood up shook his hand and wished him a good day saying that is not the way to start a conversation with a blanche. With that i'm sometimes asked if they can go back to the states with them. I just say "we'll see." It stops the conversation easier than saying no. I've got replies to all these scenarios save for the asking for food, to which i've only been able to hang my head and keep walking. Its frustrating the days when I feel everybody wants a piece of me and even more so I feel so on guard with anybody trying to befriend me. This makes me feel bad when intentions can totally be innocent.

Sticking out when walking around can have its rewards. One day I can feel its a spotlight and the next I can be grateful. Walking home one day my sandal broke and as I was hobbling along I eventually had about 15 people crowd around me and try to fix my sandal. They refused when I said i'll just walk home barefoot. They were starting to go to some lengths when I was just trying to give my sandals away saying i'll just throw them out when I get home. Several pairs of sandals were brought forth of theirs to choose from and of course everybody knowing where I lived the girl I took sandals from just said she would pick them up later at my place.

What really is frustrating is the constant on and off of both water and electricity. Its good when I have them both for 3 complete days and then I know i'm pushing my luck. Which is funny to say that as I'm writing this, yep for sure electricity just went out. I'm getting quite used to cooking by candlelight. I will after 2 years learn to appreciate cooking since all of it as to be down by scratch. One of my many where in the world moments was cooking on my gas stove by candlelight and sewing curtains by hand.

But I digress, while there as been a lot of frustrations most of which probably won't go away, its all part of this big adjustment period. What makes Batouri for me is the friends that I have made here. It helps to find things that make you happy. Ed Nader who I get my internet from has been in town this week. He owns a tobacco company here and comes for a couple weeks every few months. When he is in town his inflatable pool is cleaned and i have taken very much advantage of that! Hot season is coming and I do not look forward to sweating anymore than I am and I never thought I would say but I don't want my face and arms tanned more than they already are.

P.S. Oh i didn't even talk about the frustration of my computer. It has been down since i got here. Trying my best to get it fixed. Looking like i'll have to do a system recovery where i'll loose everything since i'm in middle of nowhere Africa. With a computer broken here its like i'm up a creek without a paddle with a hole in it being chased by a hippo (incidentally which are here in the East and one of the most dangerous animals in the world). After not having internet for over a month, I am finally borrowing my Education postmate Jessica's computer. Crossing fingers next post will be with my own....

Here in Cameroon I no longer write from Bafia. Training is over! The day after we officially swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers I began the move out East. Those going to the East and North left together to Yaounde. While those going north caught the train that afternoon, us Easties spent the night in a communal dormitory style house the PC has for us volunteers. The next day they drove us, all six of us and our immense baggage including bikes, to the bus station. There was a bit of trepidation on our part remembering all what happpened during our site visit, but all went fairly well. Highlights were a man directly in front of Liz going into an epileptic seizure and me being sold a raw egg instead of a hard-boiled one that I cracked open all over myself.

We arrived in Bertoua too late on Friday to go to the bank too pull out our money, so staying for the weekend was the only option. This turned out to be for the best. Us six new volunteers got in alot of good bonding time. There are only nine volunteers in the East. The other three were all there the second night and we all went out for a delicious fish dinner. It's was weird to see that where other regions in Cameroon have 20/30+ people us Easties can be all seated together all around one table. The rest of the weekend was passed with a Glee marathon, lots of walking around, visiting Pati's house, fish dinners, eating beans and beignets from a road-side stand, etc. Monday our big accomplishment was the bank. One in America might not see this as a days accomplishment, but in Africa it can be. Picking up an ATM card, receiving its pin, and drawing out money all required three different lines. Between all six of us working all different lines, the wait was just under 3 hours. Who knew just waiting in line can take so much energy? Lesson in Africa you'll only need to learn one - always bring a book!

I was happy Tuesday to make my final move. Thankful to bring my guitar, but tired of lugging it everywhere. The bus ride left more to be desired. Its a three hour bus ride for 90 kilometres. It should really only take an hour or two, but because the roads are unpaved its three hours on a good day, possibly up to nine on a bad one. Jessica, Julia, and I were crammed in a row together with two other people. We had our backpacks with us and between the dust and sweat and loss of feelings in our legs caused by heavy backpacks we were thankful when our anglophone friend Jupiter showed up in Batouri when we arrived with his company's truck. Highlights for the night, buying a mattress and carrying it home on my head to the many teasing of others and coming home to find my house in complete disarray. Since it was last occuped, it had collected immense amounts of dust, cobwebs, etc. Ask me how much I missed home at that moment? ALOT!

Since Julia leaves further out east in Kenzou (another 3, 4 hour trip for 120 km)I wanted to take her to post to help set her up. Highlights from that trip include being one of only two white people in town (both girls nonetheless), trying out my less than stellar Fulfulde since there were people there that only spoke it and not French, finding food to make for dinner which included me breaking down and eating Sardines (!, not as bad as orignally thought and it was nice to eat a fish and not have to worry about bones) trying out a latrine, having electricity only from 6-10 pm at night, and killing a cockroach while bucket bathing. Julia is set up comfortably and will do a really good job there as an English teacher, that and learn to speak Fulfulde better than all of us!

So here I am back in Batouri. Nice to finally have internet after long abscense. My house in coming along slowly, but surely. My first day back I threw a lot away from the previous volunteer Trevor and dusted almost everything. Both electricity and running water were out the first couple days. It wasn't a bad experience bucket bathing by kerosene lamp. Today the entire inside was painted. Something so little does so much. The head of the bus company, Alliance, came several times during the day too make sure all went well for me with that. The accountant at my bank, Abdoulaye, is a muslim. He invited me & Jessica over to his house last night for dinner. He is a Muslim and during Ramadan they fast every day. They break their fast each night with beignets and this corn drink called bouille which we sipped out of bowls. Its late here and we are back on a generator here at my internet source since electricity is out yet again. I'm going to say adieu, but I am excited for the cultural and language integration to finally begin. Just need to get my house in a workable condition! Yep, life in Batouri has begun! :)

Its ridiculous, crazy, and something else entirely. So much that it gets its own blog post. The reason for traveling? I received my post last week! Its Batouri in the eastern region. There are 3 SED (small economic development trainees posted in the in the east, all of whom girls. Coincidentally, 3 Education trainees received posts in the east...all girls as well. All the men volunteers who have finished their service are getting replaced with woman. Random, yes. And for the least developed region of Cameroon an interesting choice.

So traveling. Its been full of its moments of culture shock. My sunday, the 4th of July for my American counterparts, was spent immersed in learning this new way of travel. Every trainee traveled with their community host. Each community host is from the city/village where we are all posted. They are given the responsibility of making sure we meet people and get integrated in the society. So sunday morning Elizabeth, Patricia, and I traveled with our counterparts all the way from Bafia to Bertoua. Bertoua is the biggest city in the east and travel time is 8 hours away on a GOOD day. We met at the bus station 8:00 am where there were already a ton of organized chaos going about. Once you pay for your ticket you take your bag to your bus where they will put it on top of the bus for you. They always wait for the bus to be full before they will leave so expect...to...wait. Even when you think the bus is full its not. Last second it always fills up with more. Where the aisle is there also fits a seat. So comfotably seating 3 now with the aisle seat becomes 4 but its full when there is 5 seated in one row! There was a pig tied up laying next to the bus that people kept kicking as they walked by. When a lot of men suddenly surrounded it and then came a bunch of squealing. The 3 of us panicked thinking they were killing it, but no, turns out they were putting on the top of the bus. Yep, we had carried a pig with us for 2 hours all the way to Yaounde. With all of us packed in together, I still find it strange that Cameroonians no matter how hot it is hate wind. They were getting after us to shut the window but Patricia said she was in need of air and could vomit if she didn't have any. That put all the complaining to rest.

That was Bafia. When we arrived in Yaounde we had our biggest scare. We had to take a taxi to catch our next bus to Bertoua. As we neared the bus station all of a sudden the trunk of the taxi opened up and guys started grabbing for our bags. Thinking they were trying to steal them we hurriedly grabbed for our bags and yelling at them to stop. Our taxi driver got out to tell them to quit, and as it turns out thats what they do when you know you're going to take a bus. There are two bus companies competing for business so if they can grab your bag and take it to their bus company thats what they do. But of course scaring "la blanche" (the white girls) is something they would get a kick out of to. It was supposed to leave at one, but it didn't feel up until 2 but for a 6 hour bus ride on what we as Americans consider a normal bus (and complete with air conditioning!) was pretty decent. The only difference, bathroom breaks by the side of the road where you just find a spot wherever. Where we might like to find a private spot, nope they would line up relatively near each other.

Can there possibly be more? Definetly yes, but to keep things short let me skip to the next day and talk about my prison bus trip from Bertoua to Batouri. Its was supposed to leave at 1 but we didn't leave until 3 so I got some good reading time in. I can't give any decent description of this and will have to post a photo just for accuracy. The chairs are like folding metal chairs put together to form a bench. One on each side and of course don't forget the metal chair that folds down on the aisle. It was rickety old bus that you pray doesn't break down during the 2-3 hour (on a good day, 4-? on a bad one) bus ride over a dusty, bumpy road. It took 3 hours to go 90km. There are different and even better buses to take, but I just happened to have gotten the prison bus transportation as my first ever visit to my post. The roads are better than they have been so its not always prison bus transportation like it used to be. So (mom) I don't want to give you a worse impression than it really is. So as not to be claustrophobic I sat next to the window. Luckily no one told me to close it but as I was sitting on the left/drivers side I arrived in Batouri with a nice layer of dirt on my face. So right side it always is! If not just for the dirt its also for safety. The east is rich in natural resources and there is constantly logging trucks on the road bringing in logs from the CAR (Central African Republic). This hasn't happened in forever, but its been known to happen that a truck sideswipes one of the buses and that would affect anybody seated behind the driver..so, yah, again right side it is! We did break down for about 20 minutes and as it was nearing night at this point I was praying it to be a quick fix. Just for this reason, the Peace Corps advising volunteers not to travel at night so as if the bus breaks down you are not stuck spending the evening stuck on the road.

Its was an interesting journey from Bertoua to Batouri. I've been in sort of a PC bubble being in training and it was good to see other parts of Cameroon. The towns I've been in so far (Yaounde & Bafia) seem a lot more plush to me know. Yes, I know I'm in Africa, but it came to me on another level when in Bertoua I saw a lot of different Aid Development organizations and their cars driving around(i.e. World Food Programme, UNHCR, UNICEF,etc.) There is nothting between Bertoua or Batouri except really small villages with mud huts. Its a lot of the Africa/African poverty seen in photos. There are signs for almost all of these villages that describe different projects that are being sponsored by these organizations. Mostly clean water projects. It was very thought-provoking to see all of it, let alone see the recognition on villagers faces when they realized a white girl was in the bus. PCV's have been referred to before as dusty-road diplomats. I was thinking of that on my way to Batouri that with the PC we live like a local, whereas other AID organizations even are own embassy stay behind their walls and leave them in their SUVs to make "field visits." I may not be doing much with international developement, BUT how interesting to say that I like live, live in Africa. I live like a local, shop like a local, soon hopefully to speak like a local. With my site visit lasting 3 days, I left already speaking some Fulfulde (local ethnic language). It was interesting to think about it just on the basis of how important an understanding of culture is and how much i'll be able to understand that having have lived like a Cameroonian for 2 years.

Coming back has been much easier. Traveling will be much better when I know more what to expect. Tonight we are in Yaounde at the Peace Corps house that they have here for volunteers right next to their offices. Its funny that I'm only a month in and i'm already rejoicing over the little things. Tonight I was able to have my clothes washed and dried by a machine! Not by hand or line-dry. Although ridiculously over-priced, I had pizza for dinner. This is followed by some stable internet, watching TV, ....and a shower with HOT WATER!!! Tommorow back to Bafia it is.

First off, T.I.A. stands for This is Africa. Meaning the experiences/moments I have that let me know where im at. After meeting and driving home with my host family they showed me all around the house. There is running water and for the most part stable electricity if it doesn't rain since it rained alot that first night and all the electricity went out. The house has a kitchen, but there is a place outside kind of like a covered shack where they were cooking my first dinner of fish and spaghetti. (Here fish meaning literally the whole fish, which was the second time ever i've eaten it like that!) On a cultural note, a lot of people here eat the heads of the fish, their eyes and yes sometimes even the bones apparently for the calcium. As required by the Peace Corps my room has a door with a lock, a screen on the window, mosquito net, bucket for bucket showers, some starter toilet paper, kerosene lamp, bed, matress, pillow & sheets. Because I understand better than I speak i'm afraid that they thought with the few things I was able to speak I was much more fluent than I really am. My host mother has since confimed this saying I understand very well but have trouble being able to converse back. After dinner which is normally around 8 I just couldn't take anymore in. I retreated to my room and felt the first true pangs of lonliness. Not being understood is very hard. A few tears came before I told myself that i'm exactly where I to be. A call to my mom, which consists of me "beeping" her (letting it ring twice then hanging up so she can call me back and its free for me) helped resolve this isolation feeling and I was able to go to bed with no problems. The next day we debriefed about the first night with our host family. Alot of people went to bed around 7 and we were told we should always be prepared for awkwardness the first night which made me feel better. So here they are, my first T.I.A. experiences:

1. Making sure my mosquito net is down and tucked into my mattress atleast two hours before I go to bed and then making sure i've done everything necessary before crawling into it at night.

2. Waking up to rooster's crowing every morning

3. Getting a page/ handout that describes how to use the toilets here (in short always bring a bucket of water with you)

4. Having no fear about discussing bathroom issues

5. Lying in bed in a skirt & sports bra fanning the sweat away while charging my laptop with a regulator the size of a shoebox.

6. The first couple of mornings my brother Jerry would walk me to school and pick me up afterwards. One morning I fell in front of him and scraped my knee on the dirt. C'est mon première blesseur (sp?) en Afrique!(my first wound in africa!) I said this to him to say a joke but of course to also keep my pride intact :).

7. Bringing my own waterbottle to the dinner table because its water that has been boiled and filtered.

8. Killing my first bug(and thankfully the only one so far)in my room and not freaking out about it like I thought I would.

9. Seeing a family of five on the same motorcycle. Two parents with three children with a little baby near the handlebars all dressed up to go to church...of course with no helmets.

10. My family and I getting a good laugh/bonding over watching this American learn to wash her clothes by hand in a bucket of water for the first time.

11. Washing my underwear by hand in a bucket when a chicken strolled by.

12. Asking where to throw something out and being told to just put it on a trashpile on the ground outside.

Things i'm glad to have brought:

1. Camping towel

2. Solar headlamp

3. Pillow from home!

4. Small mirror to put on my desk when getting ready in the morning

Life is very different. If I was on top of things I would have kept a journal thus far to give an accurate picture of all I have seen and done. This time last week I had already left home but was still in orientation in Philadelphia. With all that has happened, I feel its been so long since I left. Fast forward the sadness of saying goodbye to family, friends, and yes even my dog Wali. Fast forward seeing some historical sights in Philadelphia, Peace Corps orientation, meeting other volunteers, getting my yellow fever shot, 2 hour bus ride to JFK, and a frantic search as to the whereabouts of my mom to say goodbye before I left the states. Fast forward through a sleepless flight to Brussels, starting to freak out and get nervous in the Brussels airport, passing out on the plane to Cameroon, having a first impression of Africa being of two different colors red and green. Fast forward the first night in the hotel where everybody was in some way or another freaking out about something. Fast forward through the weekend of language tests, of which I placed intermediate-mid (the minimum needed for successful completion of training), through painful shots of typhoid, hepatitis, and menigitis (only 6 more required shots to go!) Fast forward through medical and safety lectures, a cultural dance event (our first official chance to do something besides being shuffled between the hotel and PC office), through a dinner at the country directors house for which the U.S. Ambassador was present.

This for the most part gets to the present. Yesterday they bused us all to Bafia where we are training for the next 10 weeks. When we arriwed,they announced the host family and then called out the name of the trainee who they belonged to. We met in front of everybody and depending on who was present we gave each family member three small hugs rotating sides of the face, kind of like three kisses on the cheek. My family has 8 people, they told me to expect 6 but well this is Africa there is no suprise to see more. They dad Celestin is a nurse, the mom Lydie is a drugstore assistant. In family terms,Jerry is my brother he is 19 and so far my main host. He haswalked me to training and picked me up and even helped me cook my breakfast this morning. My cousins are Elvis, Sandrine, and Epiphane 22,20, and 11 respectively. Anne is my big sister who is 25 that I have yet to meet. Well 5minutes now remaining on my internet so I must end this, it was rushed but I hope understandable. More on Bafia, training, my awkward first night with my African family, and this new life to come soon now that I have internet!

Tommorow I say goodbye to my family & friends one last time and let this adventure begin! Tonight in Loma Linda, tommorow in Philadelphia, and the finally Yaounde Friday (how crazy to think by the end of this week i'll be in Africa!). There has been a lot of waiting, preparation, & paperwork to get to where I am. For my own personal record I thought I would take a few moments to jot down my timeline just to get to this point, and if your interested, to share it with you (whoever you may be) as well.

I first thought seriously of joining the Peace Corps in October/November of 2008. At the time in the middle of a desperate employment search. After working on my application and receiving my recommendation letters I was just about to hit the submit button when I received news of my acceptance into an internship in Berlin. When I returned end of April, even though I had a brief employment search in Washington DC and temporary work here in Redlands, I knew that Peace Corps was meant to be. I never wanted to wonder what if. (My submission on June 4 is coincidentally the same day I will be landing in Cameroon). Next came an interview, an nomination for business advising in french-speaking sub-saharan leaving Feb 2010, a very intricate medical/dental clearance thanks in part to my recent "brain surgery" as it was classified (a.k.a sinus surgery), then waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Several attempts to receive possible news of a invitation always came back with a "you'll here next week." Thankfully by January I finally had my placement interview after my placement officer came back from sick leave. Then waiting. By end of January, finally was I told of my new placement officer, of my original program being cut in half, of my country, and of my departure in 4 months time. Now on the other side of those 4 months, I'm glad to say I've had that much more time to get ready, to hangout with friends/family more, and wake up in a comfy bed & with a hot shower!

These past few weeks i've gone through several, but mostly three, different moods. They shuffle between nostalgia/sadness for missing my friends/family, nervousness, and excitement. Now that tommorow is when I finally leave, the excitement is taking over. Excitment of something new, nervousness of not knowing what to expect. I wonder of what my first impressions will be, of how I will take the humidity, how I will adjust to the food, if I will luck out with a good host family, what my project will be, where I will end up in Cameroon after training, and a bunch of things that keep my mind wandering!

So as one timeline ends, another begins. Tommorow night I arrive in Philadelphia, then orientation with all the other volunteers Wednesday afternoon. Thursday morning is vaccinations & a bus ride to JFK then a evening flight out to Cameroon via a stopover in Brussels. If you believe in prayer send one out for a safe journey! Next blog post will be from Africa!!! :D

So without further ado, let this blog begin! For better or for worse, here it goes. For those that may be reading this and have no idea as to the origins for its creation, I have been accepted into the Peace Corps (an American volunteer program run by the U.S. Government) and will leave June 1 for a 27 month adventure in Cameroon as a Small Business Advisor.

So the Peace Corps. When i've informed family & friends of this decision there have been many reactions. The two most common being either the comment "WOW, you are brave" or the question "why?". To the comment I say its a chance to make a difference, allow for a huge growth opportunity, experience a new culture, get out of my comfort zone, and well, frankly, to have the travel adventure of a lifetime :). I hope my answer to the question will be clear in spite of its conciseness. I've done crazier things, time wise at least. When I left for my internship in Berlin, I was accepted into it on a Friday and arrived in Berlin the following Friday. Except for bad luck with accomodations and a witchy landlady in my last apartment there, it was a fabulous experience! Yes I've lived in France for 8 months, but this by far is the biggest, longest, and farthest travel experience I have ever pursued. For the Peace Corps, I will be leaving a year to the day I applied last June. So I have had a full year to consider my decision, and the process of getting to where I am now was not the easiest. Patience truly is a virtue. Also, there were many volunteer projects I led out on in college (the biggest of them being a Zimbabwe fundraiser and creation of a Microfinance project for the School of Business) which put in my head the idea of what it would actually be like to live in a developing country. Coupled with my desire to on a professional level pursue Diplomacy and to avoid a 8 to 5 cubicle job, I figure I'm young...why not?

So with my Bon Voyage party last weekend, a weekend trip to Walla Walla, WA to my college town for my friend Megan's wedding coming up this weekend, and that fact that i'm already packed (yes, don't judge its true!)I'm going to sit back and enjoy my last two weeks with my family, friends, good food, and a good dose of American culture! Join me on this adventure? Stayed tuned for more...