------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Up until recently, it didn’t occur to me that organizing and chaperoning a high school field trip could be one of the most significant and exciting highlights of my service, but as it turns out, taking a group of 15 high school students into Faro National Park (FNP) for the day was an accomplishment for everyone involved. Although most of the students in the high school are from the area, most barely have a vague idea as to how the Park functions and to some extent, serves them, and even less have ever actually set foot in the Park, even though the base camp is less than 40km from their school. The current Conservationist of FNP has been working in Voko for more than ten years (non-consecutively), but this was the first time in his career that a group of students from the local village are coming to see and learn about the Park. This group of students is coming from the community most directly affected by the neighboring protected area, whether it is through illegal acts such as poaching and gold mining or through the benefits they should be receiving—monetary and otherwise—from the protected hunting zone their community cooperatively manages. The day started with fifteen students—dressed and ready for the wilderness—showing up at my house (and alternatively the Park Conservation Office in Voko) at 6am, to get picked up by the Conservationist’s driver. The kids came ready, equipped with camera phones, notebooks, questions for the Park staff, and most out of the ordinary—girls, in jeans and baseball caps, who normally wear strictly pagne wrap skirts and headscarves. Along with the biology teacher (who runs the club with me) and the school vice principal, we all loaded into the pick-up and headed into the park. As if riding in the back of a pick-up wasn’t enough, the kids got even more amped up once they saw a few animals (baboons and antelopes) on the way into the park. Upon arrival, we were greeted by the Conservationist and his staff, and after a few minutes of exploring the base camp a bit, the students all took a seat for a session with the Conservationist where he went over FNP’s history and creation, rules and regulations, protected and endangered species, and fielded several questions posed by the students. I was really proud of the students for coming prepared both with the background knowledge we provided them with, as well as several questions that kept the discussion moving.After the session we loaded back into the car for and outing farther into the park to get a look at some animals. The first stop was the “hippo pond,” one of the many populous hippopotamus habitats along the Faro River. As the eco-guards explained about the animals and they’re habits, we waded into the river for a closer look at the massive creatures. After an extensive photo session where basically every student solicited me for a photo in front of the hippos or with their friends wading through the water, we headed back to the car and drove a little farther into the park. Because it was nearing midday and fairly hot, there weren’t too many animals roaming about, but we still got to see a decent about of antelopes and a couple monkeys and baboons. We headed back to the park base for a wrap up session and a lunch graciously provided by the park staff, then piled back into the car, with the kids in high from the trip, singing and shouting the whole way home (I know… it sounds totally cheesy, but it’s actually how it happened). Our hope is that now that this initial trip and “conservation education series” can serve as an example for other students and clubs, peak an interest in conservation and forestry, and continue to make the Park more accessible to the community.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Switching gears a bit… I’m still doing soy formations every once in a while, the latest being with a women’s community group who planted soy I provided them with during the rainy season and now would like to learn a few different ways to prepare and take advantage of it.The formation went really well—the women were really into it and picked up on the process really quickly. They’d like to practice making tofu and soymilk some more, with hopes of selling it around the village or just consuming it at home, and then planting it again during the upcoming rainy season.

Voko's best and brightest. As we slowly creep towards April, the peak of the dry season, it has been getting steadily hotter every day. We’ve reached the point in the dry season where a cool breeze is basically non-existent and when the (hot) wind does blow, it brings along a fistful of dust. At any rate, the high school biology teacher and I have been pushing forward with our Health and Environment Club, completing four presentations for the students, and looking forward to a trip into Faro National Park this weekend. The presentations were setup as an introduction to the Park, as well as an introduction to conservation, to give the students some background information about their roles in, and relationship to, environmental protection. The first presentation covered the history and creation of Faro Reserve (the reserve surrounding the Park), the hunting zones within it, and gave the students some basic facts and statistics about the Park and protected areas in Cameroon. The second presentation focused on the Voko/Bantadje Communal Hunting Zone, which is a hunting zone in the reserve, which was turned over to the respective development committees of the two villages of Voko and Bantadje, to manage collectively. As a result of this, the two villages should be reaping the benefits of the money made by the hunting guide running the zone, but unfortunately the owed money and benefits are not reaching the community. Our hope is that armed with more information, the students, their families, and the community as a whole can hold the people currently running the two development committees more accountable. The third presentation was a lighter topic where we talked about the importance of biodiversity, and noted a few interesting or popular animals found in our area. The last presentation focused on problems faced by the park (wildfires, poaching, illegal trespassing and grazing, and deforestation to name a few) and what we can do to resolve these issues. There has been a steady attendance of about twenty students who are eager to learn and get involved. Hopefully we’ll be able to keep this momentum up after our trip this weekend. As February came to an end, all any woman or man in village could talk about was “la problème de 08 Mars” or “the Women’s Day problem”—every year women are expected to buy annual Women’s Day fabric, or more commonly, have it purchased for them by a husband or boyfriend, so they can march wearing their new outfit, during the International Women’s Day parade on March 08.

The winning team of the Women's Day soccer match.Although I opted out of both the much sought-out fabric and marching in the parade, I did join the women the night before the holiday, in a kind of talent show where they mostly danced and lip-synched to music. The day of the “fête” I helped prepare a copious amount of food for the evening, to be served at the “Women’s Day Soirée” (mostly a dance party) and then in the afternoon, the height of my day, I held my own on the field during the soccer match. Although participation wasn’t outstanding, the group of women who planned, organized, and animated the holiday in Voko did a great job and those of us involved had a great time.

Sometime in late November one evening I took a moto out about 13km from Voko, ran behind a hut on the side of the road, walked out a few more feet towards a non-descript stone, held my phone up to get a couple of bars of service and heard Dana tell me "January 3rd, I'm flying to Cameroon." That's right people, little Dana came all the way to Africa and we "fair-ed le tour" of Cameroon. It's a large country to cover in such a short amount of time, and although we didn't reach every region and point of intrigue, we did cover a lot of ground.

Making travel plans in

Bamenda, Northwest RegionAlready in Yaoundé Dana was pointing out odd interesting things that have grown into my normal day to day, such as the lack of a connection between the number of seats in a bus or taxi, and the number of passengers that can physically squeeze into the vehicle. Smushed between Cameroon's finest, we took a bus to the green and hilly Northwest region where we attempted to speak Pidgin English, met some great people, and hiked around a beautiful lake. As we pushed ourselves to cover ground, we made our way up the Grand North, crossing through various markets on the way, and Looking over Lake Oku, Northwest Region.eventually making it to my village. In getting to Poli and then continuing to Voko, Dana got to see firsthand what it takes to get all the way out to my village, and the various modes of transportation that entails.I didn't give her enough credit for being able to support such an exhausting ride, and then on top of that, to start moving house to house to meet my friends in village. The first family we visited set the tone for Voko. As we walked into the compound the women, some of my good friends in village, ran towards us to welcome us, as the kids crowded announcing "Dori waarrti be Dori feeree! Dori feeree waarri!" meaning, "Dori has come back with a different Dori," in Fulfulde. With friends in Voko.We rode out to the park base and were graciously hosted by the staff and the Park Conservationist (my supervisor), who took us on a ride into the park. As we rode "en brousse" in the back of the park pick-up, as soon as someone spotted an animal, we would stop the car, hop off, and try and get some good pictures. As checked "safari" off her Africa To-Do List, we made our way back to Voko for some more time to get to know my village. Although we had to adhere to our tight schedule and keep moving north to Garoua, Dana still somehow found time to get her whole head braided by one of my neighbors-- a feat that impressed many women in my village considering the length of her hair.Enduring the pain of hair-braiding. Henna at the tailor's house in Garoua.In Garoua we rolled out the grand list of things to accomplish, and within 72 hours we had bartered for gifts in the artisanal market, sampled the vast amount of street food offered, purchased fabrics and ordered clothes, and were ready to go return south with the mark of the North, henna, painted onto us. In Yaoundé we were able to relax and get in last minute shopping while covering some ground in the capital city. It all went by so fast, but each time a small child in village asks "where did Dana go?" I realize, yeah, she definitely left her mark.



The first session of our park-related

education series with the clu After an extended amount of time away from post, by the end of January I was already back in Voko, ready to get started on all that I had planned for this year. I've been devoting most of my time to working with the high school in two different areas, teaching English and working with the Health and Environmental Club. Teaching is a whole new domain for me, but so far, during my three hours a week and class of up to twenty-five students, I've been having a good time. It's taking a lot of work for the students to get used to my style and accent, while I'm getting used to the nuances of the Cameroonian education system. The Health and Environmental Club consists of about 30 students, ranging from 7th grade to 10th grade (our high school only goes to 10th, to continue they must leave Voko for a larger establishment), and is headed by myself and the school's biology teacher. Voko primary school students during

the National Youth Day parade.Working off the action plan the kids wrote out at the beginning of the school year, we're currently working on two different projects: reforesting the school's campus and undertaking a short park-specific formation series before taking a Club trip into Faro National Park. February also gave the students and opportunity to shine a good light on their club and their talents, as they presented a few different comedy sketches dealing with health and environmental issues (cholera, smoking, poaching, and the importance of trees) during the celebrations for National Bilingualism Day (03 February) and National Youth Day.Games for the primary school students

During National Youth Day.

The kids all did a great job with the sketches, showcasing their knowledge and stressing important issues for the community, all the while making us laugh. So far my work with the school has been really fulfilling and I am looking forward to accomplishing all that we've set out for this next month (and the rest of the year).

I've had a lot of exciting things happen in the past few months that I would really like to write about, but time is short and internet is far, so i promise to work on a few posts while I am in village. Expect some stories and pictures at the end of the month!

After the excitement of the “fete” in early November, I just bout a month to wind down any work I had going on but at the same times, plan out what I would like to do this upcoming year. I met with a couple of my women’s groups (GICs) a few times to see how their harvest was going, and to plan out any work and formations we would like to do once they are done. I have continued meeting with the village high school's (somewhat functioning) Health and Environmental Club. I sat in on their discussions on personal hygiene, malaria, HIV/AIDS, and would like to use my role in their group to promote more environmental education. I helped a few students with a presentation on tree nurseries, hoping that this new knowledge will better prepare them when planting all the young trees we just received from MINFOF. On my own time, I finished harvesting my soy and corn, storing everything neatly in my house to await my return from the U.S.Waaaaaaaait a second. USA? As in the land of supermarkets, hot water, pavement, customer service, and all those other great things that make a PCV warm and happy inside? As much as I thought all this (and more) would turn my world upside-down, it was actually just a really nice visit home, and a great chance to see friends and family that I've missed so much this past year (and eat pizza, duh). As "normal" as it was to be back in the States, it did give me a pretty interesting opportunity to reflect on my life here in Cameroon. So many things that at first I considered crazy, alarming, exciting, and different are mostly regularly expected these days. I've allowed myself to become pretty jaded, both cynical about my work and perhaps oblivious to problems that I noticed earlier. After almost a year and a half in Cameroon, and over year living as a bone fide PCV, it hasn’t been easy—actually at times it has been pretty damn hard, but it has been enjoyable.I'm going back to post today—pushing through my second year— with a fresh outlook and some refreshed motivation. I learned a lot this past year and I’m hoping to use that to make a better experience for myself in Cameroon, strengthen my work with my community, and of course bring it all back here, to all tell about it.

It has been such a long time since I last posted, that I really should apologize to all of you who take the time to read the words I write. I tried to make up for lost time by uploading a decent amount of pictures onto Facebook, so now I’ll finally offer some of the stories behind what you might have seen.Swimming in the Atlantic Ocean. Near the end of August I left my well-trimmed farm and dutifully fasting community to go down to Yaoundé for some meetings. Unfortunately leaving Voko at this time meant that I would be missing a big fête in village—the end of Ramadan, but at the same time, being down in the Southern half of the country gave me a chance to spend some time seeing more of the country and visiting other volunteers. After wrapping up in Yaoundé, some friends and I left for Limbe, a beach town in the Southwest region of the country known for its beaches of black volcanic sand. It ended up being a little too cold and rainy to spend much time in the water, but we still took full advantage of being on the coast and gorged ourselves with the delicious seafood in abundance.One of two crater lakes at the top of Mount Maunenguba,

east of Bangem After a couple days on the beach I traveled farther north (both geographically and quite startlingly in terms of elevation) to visit another PCV working with MINFOF in the town of Bangem. Although I was still in the Southwest region, I had already begun noticing how startlingly different—visually and culturally—both the region and the country as a whole seem to be. At times communication could be quite a problem, often repeating the same phrase a few times before finding the correct language... French? English? Pidgin? Definitely not Fulfulde like I’ve become so used to, up North! We spent a few days hiking “en brousse” into the various protected areas surrounding his town and I was able to learn about their issues, along with the work being done, and compare it to life in my village, in the North. Bangem was surprisingly cold and as we hiked up the hills surrounding the town, this “Nordist” became aware of how unprepared I was to tackle anything besides the hot, Northern sun.Tofu made at the prison.

On my way back to Yaoundé, I stopped through another PCV’s post to get a small glimpse at the West region. While there I accompanied her to a soy formation at, of all places… a prison! It was interesting to see the interworking of a Cameroonian prison and as always, to work alongside another PCV and make some delicious tofu. I made my way back up to post, thoroughly impressed with the diversity of the country and the validity to the much-heard statement coining Cameroon as “Africa in miniature.”Corn and sesame growing steadily, soy yellowing for harvest Back at post I was ecstatic to see my village friends again, recount my recent adventures, and of course, see how my farm has progressed! The rest of September and all of October were spent partially harvesting soy, but mostly helping out on friends’ farms harvesting peanuts as fast as we could before the rains end and the ground becomes too hard and dry to uprooting the peanuts. Now that school has reopened, I’ve met with the Environmental Club at Voko’s high school a few times, organizing our plans for the year, hoping to create a student-run tree nursery, student garden, and possibly a trip into the National Park (along with conservation-focused activities). The community convenes to pray together.In full "Hadja"-wear

November began with much excitement as all of Voko came together to celebrate the Muslim holiday of L'Aïd al-Adha, where much praying is done and a lamb sacrificed, just as Abraham had done, to show his devotion to God. The day of the big “fête” was an exciting one as everyone was dressed in their best clothes, making their rounds around village to greet friends and family. The day ended with much of the village—from young children to old village mamas—congregating in front of the Lamido’s (traditional authority, village chief) compound to celebrate with some of their traditional music and dancing. In a small village that is usually asleep by 9pm at the latest, it was exciting to see everyone out and dancing late into the night.

When I last posted, June was at its close and with good reason, people were worried about the rain. July came and passed, and still no rain. Normally it should start raining lightly around May and planting begins in June, when the rains become steadier, but this year the rains have been both late and sporadic. For those who had planted early, lack of rain was a constant worry for their young crops, and for those who had not yet planted, there was much uncertainty as to whether there would be sufficient rain once they finally got a chance to put some seeds in the ground. The lack of rain becomes a financial risk when people have to replant crops that haven’t grown, or retreat their fields when there was insufficient rain to activate the herbicides and fertilizers already used. Furthermore, there is fear the harvest this year could be very weak, which could lead to famine when planting season comes around next year.

Corn and soy (the epitome of america, n'est pas?) Freshly weeded soy, all done by yours truly. Now that the rain has finally become steadier, so has the farm work. I’ve begun work on what we’re calling an “experimental plot” alongside my work counterpart, the MINADER field tech. in Voko. We’ve planted soy, corn, and millet, and to add the “experimental” element, planted alternating rows of red beans, soy, and Bracharia (a nitrogen-fixing grass) associated with the two cereals. Our farm is right on the side of the road so seeing me work has become a slight tourist attraction; people often stop by to greet us or shout out support (“Du courage!”) while passing by. As can be seen in the photos, there's still a lot of work to be done, in terms of weeding. Millet and red beans (and lots and lots of rocks). As I may have mentioned before, Voko is mainly populated by Muslims, with Christians all being people that have moved to the village from elsewhere in Cameroon. Islam is a pretty prominent aspect of village life in Voko, usually noticed by the various blessings being used (e.g. “Salaam Aleichum” being thrown around 24/7) and the five regular prayer times throughout the day. Now more than ever, the prominence of the religion is seen as July 30th marked the first day of Ramadan, commencing the 30 days of fasting, observed only during daylight hours. I was encouraged by my community to try and fast along with them, and since I had already missed out on breakfast when I was informed that Ramadan had begun, I figured I would just keep on fasting and see how it goes. To my surprise, the fasting has not been at all difficult, and doing so alongside the rest of my community definitely adds an aspect of solidarity. For the last week or so, the regimen in village has been to wake up around 4am, eat breakfast, and in my case, drink lots of water. Around 5am, the first call to prayer is heard, signaling the start of fasting. By 6:30am I like to be out on the farm; the work this week being completely devoted to weeding. Around 11am I’m back at home for a while, usually napping or reading, and then the rest of the day is usually spent hanging out with various people around village. By 4 or 5pm, basically everyone has returned from the farm and the village has become repopulated. Girls are out selling food to break the fast with (beignets, manioc prepared in a variety of ways, beans, and most importantly bouille… kind of like porridge) and everyone is anxiously waiting for the 6:30pm call to prayer that will also end the day’s fasting. Once heard, most of the people grab a quick drink of bouille and head to the mosque. I usually wait around for everyone to get back from the mosque and then we drink a boatload of bouille and munch on beignets before the last and longest prayer is at 7:30pm. So that’s what the rest of the month will probably look like. I’ll try and keep updating with pictures of the farm and such.

I’m not kidding with that title. Throughout the month of May there was enough rain to turn my concession wild, but not enough to start planting. Yet, in anticipation of my future garden (and for fear of not being able to find my house among the tall grass and weeds), I decided to manicure my yard, garden hoe in hand. I groomed about half the concession (WAY easier said than done!) and then turned the work over to some neighborhood kids looking for some work. This will be the second time I “hire” kids to work in my yard—the first time was kind of a hot mess, but turned out to be a pretty funny afternoon… I was working in my yard, turning the soil to make beds for planting, when I notice a group of 5 kids standing at the entrance to my concession, staring at me in a kind of awe that I am capable of “laboring” (general term here for field work). Anyway, since I’m not fond of being gawked at I told the kids that instead of staring, they should go look for their own garden hoes and come help me. After about an hour and a half of work, we were a spectacle for passing neighbors, but did an okay job, and the kids won a round of sodas. Besides keeping busy with yard work, there have also a bunch of different celebrations lately. May 20th marked Cameroon’s Unification Day, which brought in people from villages all around the division (including people from “my village,” Voko!), as usual, included a whole lot of people marching across Poli’s stadium, and was marked with a general festive feeling around town all day. June was opened with a large celebration in Voko—the village’s annual development committee meeting. This meeting brought in the representative for Poli’s souspréfé, Poli’s mayor, Voko’s lamido (traditional chief), and a large number of “elites” (business owners, various ministry delegates, people of standing who are from Voko). The reason for celebration (among many) was that the committee would be giving out a gift (snazzy new backpacks) to the top three girls of each primary school (which is totally awesome) and collecting money to work with for the next year.Between those two “fêtes,” I managed to find time to cross the Faro River to attend the wedding of a friend’s brother in a village called Tchamba. While this village is still in Cameroon, it sits a few kilometers from the Nigerian border, and as I walked through the market and saw nothing but Nigerian Nairas, I started wondering if I should have brought my passport. After taking in the market, I went back to the wedding family’s concession and spent the rest of the afternoon watching all the wedding preparations while getting henna done on my feet and both sides of my hands. It was kind of a tedious process, but totally worth it and when I later showed up to Voko in head to toe pagne and henna, I was received as la femme africaine, la femme du nord, and ironically enough, Hadja. The wedding ceremony began the day before I got there, with the groom’s family traveling to the bride’s village (Wangai, also across the Faro) to watch her complete her reading of the Koran (and likely some other praying and traditions I missed) and to bring her to the groom’s village to continue the rest of the wedding ceremony. The second day was focused around the evening when the groom’s mother formally sees the bride in front of everyone, and the bride and groom are separately showered with money from their family and friends. The evening is concluded when the bride and groom take their first meal together with everyone (generally the first time men and women come together and often the first time the now husband and wife see each other). It was interesting to witness the whole ceremony and I was flattered to be invited; I definitely look forward to attending more traditional events.

Ever since my arrival to Cameroon, my mind has been a jumble of language; since moving to the Grand North, jumbled with the addition of Fulfulde and now also a decent amount of Voko, which is a very tonal language, lacking the rules and simplicity of Fulfulde, thus making it much more difficult to pick up on. The more time I have been spending in Voko (soon to be a fairly permanent placement), the better my language(s), since I’m immersed nearly 24/7, and I’m pretty pleased with my progress—I can now carry on basic daily conversation that makes me feel like I’m actually contributing and not just a warm body hanging around. I do get told that I don’t speak enough (a shock to all of you, I’m sure), which I find hilarious—I’ll be sitting with a group of people who are chatting, mostly Fulfulde with intermittent Voko, and then they turn to me and ask, “why are you so silent?! Speak!,” to which I usually answer “mi don nana!” (I’m listening) which actually does significantly help me pick up new words and phrases. Another high point of my recent stays in Voko have been my increasing popularity with the children, specifically a baby who was so scared of me he couldn’t even look at me without screaming and crying (yes, I have that mystifying power over children here). To try and win over his love, I bought him a piece of candy, and after accepting with careful consideration, this child sticks to me like glue. He’s taking to me so, that he dances around the concession singing “Shara don don, Shara don don! (because he can’t pronounce Nasara = white person in Fulfulde), and although I don’t like being called Nasara and he’s slowly learning my name, this is still totally adorable. In terms of work, right now we’re preparing for cultivation which should begin very soon as the rainy season is just beginning. If I haven’t already noted this, the crops that dominate here are corn (not the sweet corn you know), peanuts, millet, cotton, and rice. A few of the GICs I work with will be planting soy, and throughout the villages we will be planting various types of trees (for consumption, shade, and farm use). The women of these GICs are very interested and motivated in learning about all kinds of IGAs and are constantly asking about all kinds of different things that we can do. I’ve done soap-making sessions with a few groups and built an improved cookstove with another group. Some stuff that we might be doing later on include lotion making, products using soy flour, fruit-drying, canning, juice making, and cloth dying. What’s cool is that we’re constantly coming up with generating ideas; possibilities manipulate local resources and ways to preserve food products. A recent idea that I’m really looking forward to researching is the use of bees wax to make various products… updates to come!

After my last blog post I realized that I forgot to tell my most recent achievement (or probably most recent obsession would be more correct). I’ve already mentioned that here in Cameroon, as is common across the continent, people carry many things on their heads—especially water. Since arriving at post I’ve often shared my interest in carrying water this way and have even been encouraged to do so by a friend or two who all told me that it is indeed easier to carry water on one’s head than to do so by hand… turns out, they’re absolutely right! It’s easier and virtually no water is lost en route. So now I’ve taken to carrying water (a bucket of filled to 17 liters) from the deep water well by my house a few times a day. I honestly thought that the first time the bucket was placed on my head I would just collapse under the weight (and I didn’t think to start small), but it wasn’t so bad and now I’m getting pretty good at it, it’s just a question of positioning and balance of the bucket, as well as the rolled up bandana underneath. I’ve been so excited about this recent development that not only have I been telling everyone and anyone, but I also like to take chances to practice, ex: carrying a case of beer on my head down a few blocks while in Ngoundéré.Climbing Mt. Ngoundere Speaking of recent achievement, the other day while reaching the end of my morning run, just as I reached my neighborhood, I noticed a decent sized group of people singing and dancing under a few trees just behind the neighborhood. As I was nearing my neighborhood I could hear the chant-like singing growing in volume and once I had arrived, I stood and watched the group along with some neighbors. I later found out that this group of people, who are from the Toupouri tribe (generally living in the eastern part of the Extreme North region, but also decently populating my neighborhood), were celebrating a coming of age tradition, common among many (Northern) Cameroonian tribes. In short, these young boys had just spent a couple days en brousse (I later found out that these days that just means under some trees outside the neighborhood), are now returning as young men, and will each receive a new name, generally an evolved version of their old name. I just got back from a spending a few days at the base camp of the park, which is about a few kilometers south of the last village (Mayo Djarendi) in the canton (Voko) and takes crossing the vast, but currently near-empty Faro River. One of the coolest parts of each day was walking down the empty river bed in search of a pool of water deep enough to swim in for a while (sans hippos, mind you!). Right now, the deepest water is usually knee-high and in fairly rare, sporadic pools, but once we’re well into the rainy season, the water should be a few hundred meters long and at a tree-topping depth (sorry, estimation isn’t my forte). Anyway, it was really awesome to walk along all kinds of fresh tracks from animals (hippos, various types of antelopes and birds) all doing the same thing as me—looking for water! One of the more unfortunate parts of being in the park base is again, witnessing the number of poachers and gold diggers arrested on a daily basis. It’s regrettable to see so many people risking prison and fines, and that animals (some already threatened) put at risk. One man was brought in for poaching—a warthog, several lizards, a few antelope, and a monkey known as “the magistrate” because of its black and white fur resemblance to courtroom judge with a wig (a few of which I later saw hopping between trees!). On the note of gold digging, on any given day of the week, a majority of the people who live Voko (generally those living farther south, closer to the river) are not to be found because they have all gone down to the river to look for gold (think California gold-rush style). The other day my counterpart, the MINADER rep in Voko, asked a few women who regularly go down to the river to show us their findings; they promptly produced a dime-sized pile of gold “pebbles” which they said is easily worth 10.000 FCFA (about $20) and can take weeks to find.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve already been in Cameroon for over half a year… crazy! The month of March was a fairly busy one. I did a round of meetings with the same GICs I had met with in January, to give them a better understanding of what A/F is, my role as a PCV, and how we can work together. Some of the groups responded with specific interests and high motivation to learn and try new things, for example conservation techniques at home (composting, improved cookstoves) or introducing improved techniques and plants to their farms. A lot of the farm techniques are in the planning and explaining phase right now, and will only be implemented in June/July during planting (when the rainy season has set in). One really cool meeting I had was with a group of women where I taught them how to make tofu and soy milk. It was A LOT of work (grinding soy beans by hand for about 3-4 hours), but it was a huge success. March 8 was International Women’s Day, which was celebrated in style here. All the women, including myself, donned the celebratory pagne. I just got back from a week in Ngoundéré, the capital of the Adamawa, the region just south of me. My reason for being there was IST (In-Service Training), a week of sessions for all new PCVs and our “counterparts”—someone we have been working with at post who knows about A/F and agricultural work and can work closely with the PCV and the community. On top of the PC sessions, this past week was a great chance to reunite with my stage-mates and hear about life at post for the last 4 months. It was especially interesting to hear from the PCVs in the Grand South and to hear their reactions upon their arrival to the Grand North—it’s a huge transition from the humid tropics, to the dry, Muslim and Fulfulde-dominated Sahel. Oh also, wildlife update: This morning while driving into Garoua (while crossing the bridge over the Benoue River), I saw EIGHT hippos all hanging out in the water, a few with their heads above the water. Hippos must be a regular occuurance during dry season… my friends and I spotted one several feet away from us a few days ago while swimming in Lake Lagdo (the reservoir here in the North that powers a large part of the country via a large hydraulic dam). As a closer, here’s an update on my integration abilities. Even though I still get dranged (franglish for to bother) a lot and am uncomfortably aware that I stand out like a sore thumb, the other day I had a total win. I was in Ngong, a large town just north of me, and this kid was trying to sell me water, which I was not interested in (for my own enjoyment I decided to tell him that I only drink bil-bil, millet wine, and have no interest in water). After explaining this to him in Fulfulde and rejecting him enough times, he kept trying to get me to buy water, but began addressing me as nassara-balejum (black, white person) which I took as a total compliment and have been using as a bragging point since.

The first big occasion this month was the 11th of February – Fête de la Jeunesse (Youth Day). The day’s celebrations mainly comprised of a large group of students of all ages from all of the schools in Poli marching in parade a across Poli’s main stadium/field. There were some other events leading up to the day itself, including soccer matches between the high school and a cultural night where students performed skits and dances.The other big event happened today and that was the arrival of our new souspréfét. As I’ve explained, Cameroon is divided into 9 regions. Each region is divided into a number of departments (depending on size, population) and each department has a Préfét and under him, a Souspréfét, both acting as extensions of the President. Each department is divided into arrondissements (like districts or counties) and then within those, there are city mayors who are voted locally, and traditional village chiefs. So getting a new souspréfét is a pretty big deal since this is an important government position and the souspréfét’s house is right next door to mine! The ceremony drew in lots of officials from town, as well as several lamidos (head chief, in Fulfulde) from surrounding villages. All the big lamidos were wearing the traditional, flowing biu-bius that men wear in the North, along with elaborate headdresses that seemed similar to what Imams usually wear. Unfortunately my camera is broken, so I couldn’t take any pictures, but hopefully I can eventually get some pictures of the traditional dress here in the Grand North. The rest of the ceremony was mostly formalities; the old Souspréfét went down the line of officials and shook their hands, then the arriving Souspréfét did the same. Afterwards the mayor and the Préfét both said some words, and the two souspréféts did an “official,” symbolic switch where they stood on either side of the Préfét, saluted each other, and then switched places… kind of like the changing of the guards. At home I’ve joined some of the neighborhood teenagers in their evening soccer games… it’s been fun and quite a work out… I’m looking forward to some improvement on my part. I’ve also had the neighborhood kids over at my house to do some coloring and drawing and pass the time on the weekends. Other than that, things are moving slowly, yet somewhat steadily at post. This Friday I will be going back into Voko to do a presentation on tree nurseries and then hopefully going back again next week to do some introductions to A/F and hopefully find some GICs who are interesting in trying new A/F techniques.

Road between villages, cotton field to the right.The second round of GIC meetings went well, probably better than the first. These meetings are for me to get to know the community groups, their farming activities, group goals, and also for them to get to know me and hopefully start building some sort of working relationship. All of the groups I met grow some type of cash crop (corn, peanuts, millet, rice, cotton) as their main farming activity, but during the second week I met a few groups that have planted vegetable gardens, fruit trees, and would like to try new crops (ex: soy). Meeting groups that have already experimented with different farming activities and diversified what they grow is really great because it shows that they are willing to work and take risks which will be necessary if they are interested in integrating any A/F techniques or species into their farms. Communication with the farmers is still kind of a struggle since most of them do not speak French. I had someone help me with translation during all the meetings, but it can still be frustrating because I’m only getting a summary of what has been said, but no worries... it’ll take some time and Fulfuldé practice, but it will come. Yesterday I went to visit the same Project ESA II demo plot in WindéPinchoumba that I biked to a couple weeks ago. It was a really successful visit—I got to see all their test plots where they grow cash crops in a traditional way (monocropping, plowing, fertilizer application, field burning) as compared to their plots where they integrate A/F techniques and species (no plowing, fallow, nitrogen-fixing plants, intercropping, crop rotation). It was great to hear that they have been very successful in their test area and that many farmers in their area have been improving their farms with these integrations… now it’s just a matter of getting the word farther down the road to the villages in Voko! On the moto ride home from WindéPinchoumba, we drove past a wildfire that had spread from a field someone was burning. It sucks seeing so much of the land being burned on a regular basis, especially when things like this happen, where it gets picked up by the wind and burns huge areas. Oh, I almost forgot… I saw a lioness! I wish I could post a picture, but I was jammed into a little bush taxi with six other people and my bag was in the back. We were driving out to the village and the lioness was just walking down the road (away from us) and then turned off into the bush. My first thought when I saw her: “huh, that’s not a dog.”

Before I get into what I’ve been up to lately, let me explain a little bit about my post and the area where I have begun working—and I must admit that I’m still learning myself… it’s not so easy without a map in front of me. The Conservation, one of Faro National Park’s main offices, is located about an hour or two west of Poli, in a canton called Voko. A canton is a district, the collective name for a group of villages. Outside of the park, there are several villages I have begun working with—Gormaya, Mayo Djarendi, Paté Manga, Lenguerba and along with some other villages, they are collectively known as Voko. The park itself is divided into several areas, the farthest west being the “park” itself (where the Conservationist’s office is) and the rest, roughly ten, are managed hunting zones which are rented out to hunting guides.Picture of only the coolest things found, including antelope and hippo skulls. I spent this past weekend in Voko, meeting with various GICs so I can learn about their work, farming activities, needs, interests, goals, and anything else they are willing to share so I can learn about their groups. It’s exciting to finally feel like I’m “getting out there” and talking to people and learning about the farming activities in the area. Since there isn’t regular transportation from Voko to Poli (and it’s an uncomfortable 1-2hr ride), it’s easiest for me to stay in Voko for various periods of time. While in Voko I tried this fruit, called kosala. It tasted kind of like green tea.I had a room set up in the Conservation, which I will continue to use as I keep traveling into Voko and it ended up being a pretty great place for me to be. There are always MINFOF eco-guards working and hanging around the office, which provides me with a really great way to learn about the functions of the park and general stuff about the area. I was fortunate enough that my stay coincided with the Conservationist passing through Voko, providing me with a lot of quality time to talk to him on a range of topics. Unfortunately for him, his stay was prolonged by accumulating work, as several arrests were made in the park. The first was a Nigerian man who was caught poaching—a porcupine, coupe de buffoon, and a monkey. The second was a group of men from one of Voko’s villages, caught fishing illegally and mining for gold in one of the hunting zones. I was surprised to hear that these men were mining, but apparently the area is fairly rich in minerals, and although there is some chance in finding something; this chance is not very high and the small amount that may be found doesn’t have very much value, but as one of the men explained—a village chief—the pressure to pay for his children’s’ education has pushed him to take these chances. Hearing this man talked really just motivated me more to learn about the area and the people—their resources and potential. My hope is that I can help them find ways of generating an income that can help improve their lives, while maintaining a balance, and relieving pressure from the park.

Besides working with my host institution (MINFOF), my job is to seek out other organizations I can work with (this is the reason I visited so many MIN_ offices when I got to post). Project ESA II is the environmental offshoot of SOTECOTON, the French-Cameroonian company that controls anything and everything to do with cotton in this country. Anyway, Project ESA II has an A/F demo plot in this village just over 25km from Poli called WindéPinchoumba. I biked out at 7am, with the hope of reaching the demo plot and finding someone in charge—which I did, in 2 hours. After setting a time to meet next week and taking a short break, at 10am I headed back to Poli, hoping that I had enough in me to make it home in good time, just before the afternoon heat. I didn’t do so bad, 2 hours and 50 minutes—10 of which I spent taking a water break and 30 minutes to walk up the really steep, rocky section. When I reached the hilly section and decided to walk it, I happened to stop right behind a group of women who were walking in my direction; I figured since I was just walking my bike, one of them might as well set it on my saddle while we walk uphill (rather than carry it on her head… I don’t think I’ve mentioned anything about this, but with the exception of babies, who are always tied securely to one’s back with a large cloth, EVERYTHING can be and generally is carried on one’s head… in Lable, it was a regular occurrence to see men walking down the road balancing planks the size of telephone poles on their heads). So I walked uphill with these women, carrying with me a bag of what I later found out to be millet wine, then biked the rest of the way home, promptly rewarded myself with a cold Coke (not as satisfying as ice cream at Morrow) from the bar, and deemed the voyage a success.

These are the mountains just west of my house.This is the same view, but no mountains, just dust!In Fulfuldé it’s sollare, in French it’s poussiére, in English it’s dust, but no matter what you call it… it’s everywhere. All those wonderful hills and mountains I kept talking about—gone. At first, looking at the closer hills one could mistake it for fog, but the dust is so thick, that past about 500 meters the landscape disappears completely. It’s not really a bother in the day-to-day, but it does make traveling on already dusty roads that much worse. Since reading Grapes of Wrath I feel like I should probably note that it’s not the dust bowl over hear. A lot of the plants, especially the large Teak leaves, have turned brown from the dust settling, but it’s not like I have to wipe down my furniture and windows, dust my food off before eating, or anything extreme like that.

It’s a new year and my second month at post, things seem to be moving a little more coherently now, but before I start talking work-stuff, I’d rather track my progress on the home front. In the Grand North, it’s customary to have large walls around one’s house for protection, privacy, to keep the goats out, etc. Although I appreciate my cement wall for all the above reasons, it does at times feel a little self-isolating, especially when the neighborhood kids are lurking on the other side. These kids and I had a funny relationship from the start—they would just stare (likely in shock and awe), sometimes daring to yell out la blanche (French for white person) or nassara (Fulfuldé for stranger or white person) once I’ve passed or entered my house, and I, in response generally greeted them bonjour/bonsoir/ca va? /etc. (or ignored them depending on my mood and their distance). Anyway, their curiosity got the best of them during their vacation, and in the days between Christmas and New Year’s they finally decided to cross through the gate and get a good look at Boo Radley. The thing is, as much as they are loud and rambunctious together, the second their feet hit my porch they become silent and shy, which makes it different to make conversation and attempt to befriend them. One afternoon a bunch of kids are hanging around my porch and as I’m attempting to drag some words out of them I remember that I have crayons and a coloring book left over from gifts I brought for my homestay families. Once I bring these out and start handing out blank pictures and crayons, more and more kids start to trickle into my yard until there are at least 15 kids (ages 2 – 13) hanging out, coloring, and of course, fighting over crayons. All in all it was a good time, and even though the kids are still kind of shy, they frequent the porch to say hi (actually looking to see if I have a new a coloring book or candy) and I stop by and inquire about whatever activity may be keeping them interested that day.This makes traveling less fun. In terms of work, after “establishing my presence”—meeting officials and visiting offices, my next step is to start meeting community groups and farmers and finding out what kind of work can be done in the area. Even though many of the offices seemed to be in an end-of-the-year lull, one community group leader seemed eager to work with me and introduce me to his group. Unfortunately, the same day that we had planned to go see his group’s land, he informed me that there was some trouble amidst—the members of his group are unable to work in their fields because a family of lions (3) have left the parklands and descended into this community group’s field looking for food—a threat to their cattle, their crops, and their lives. When I told a fellow PCV about my “work dilemma,” her response was comically accurate: “well, we’re definitely in Africa”. Unfortunately, the problem has not yet been solved and the group is waiting on a response from the local MINFOF delegation. In the meantime, I have been able to get a start on things, beginning with a trip into the park to visit my supervisor, the park conservationist, to get some contacts and make a work plan. To get to him, I had to endure a 3 hour moto ride on a pretty terrible road alternating between rocks and sand (and at one point a shallow stream), and then cross the Faro River by canoe (and then do this all over again to get back). Even though I came home covered in dust and with an extremely sore butt, the day was hailed a success. With the help, I was able to schedule a meeting with several community group leaders for this Friday (Jan. 14) and will be staying in the MINFOF office outside the park for a few days so I can meet with groups individually, visit their villages and hopefully see the land they work on. Wildlife count: I saw some hippopotamuses in the Benoué River upon entering Garoua one morning, while crossing the Faro River I saw some baboons drinking by the riverbank, and as we were leaving the park I saw a whole bunch of coup de bouffon (a kind of antelope). Even though the large rivers like the Faro and Benoué are still full of water, animals, and all things good. Almost all of the other streams, brooks, etc. have dried up. The crazy thing is (from what I'm told) is that most of these bodies of water will be flooded during the rainy season, but for now people with no access to wells are digging for water.

It’s been two weeks since my arrival at post and I’m happy to say that I actually have things to report! Tuesday of this week (14 Dec) I began protocol, which is kind of a formal/structured way to meet the area’s officials and basically let them know that I’m here. Some of the meetings were more of a formality (police chief, other security personnel, mayor) where I just give said official the document provided by the Peace Corps that lists all of the new PCVs in the region and each of our program/host institution. Other meetings, which hopefully will be the first of many, were with people who I plan on working with in the future and can connect me to relevant community groups (Ministry of Forestry and Fauna – MINFOF, Ministry of Environmental Protection – MINEP, Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development – MINADER). I lucked out that by chance there was a meeting at the MINFOF office in the national park I will be working with, so I was able to tag along. I say I lucked out because it sounds like trips from Poli into the park aren’t necessarily a rarity, but definitely don’t happen too often. The park is just over an hour’s drive west of the town—about 60km which I’ve been challenged to bike if/when I start working out there on my own, since there isn’t a regular form of transport on that road. En route to the park I finally saw what everyone at home’s been waiting for… WILDLIFE! As much as I wish I could say we had to stop the car for a herd of elephants, really it was just a group of monkeys hanging out… not even swinging from trees or anything, just hanging out and munching on whatever plant-matter they found of the ground. Sadly, I just caught a glimpse of them while we drove by, so no picture (yet!). The MINFOF office is just at the entrance to the park, so I didn’t actually go it, but I was told that when work commences after New Year’s, we can take a trip in and get a grand tour of everything.The other day while reading in the “public space” (a shady spot with benches), I was befriended by two high school girls, both are seniors at the Lycée Classique (there are two high schools in town, Lycée Technique, which is more vocational-focused, and Lycée Classique, the general high school). I happened to run into them while we were both on the way to their school—I, to meet with the principal and possibly find someone to tutor me in Fulfuldé, and they, to pick up their report cards (as I found out en route, vacation commences today… “winter break,” if you will). When we got there, all of the students were standing outside for an assembly (no bleachers, but luckily plenty of trees for shade), while teachers and various school administrators read out class rankings and then proceeded to give out report cards to the top two students of every class. One 7th grade boy was not only the top of his class, but had the best marks in the whole school and was not only praised by teachers and administrators, but also given some money as a congratulatory gift, I suppose. Even though this practice is totally foreign to anything I ever experienced at an American school, it was nice to see top students publicly acknowledged (yay, education!).So that’s it for now. I don’t expect things to really “pick up” until January since it’s “the holidays” and well, people are on vacation and what-not. For the time being I’ll stick to what I’ve been doing—reading, getting to know people/the area at post, faire-ing le sport (see below) , motivating myself to study Fulfuldé and hopefully continuing to get my house together.

Photos!!!

<--train leaving Yaounde for the Grand North (last stop is Ngaoundéré, capital of the Adamaoua). En route to the north (during this particular trip), this train will stop about 3 hours away from or final destination for a total delay of about 6 hours. Why? The last 5 wagons or so (which included us of course) were detached from the front wagons, who didn't notice and couldn't be contacted due to lack of phone service)... as i've learned to say... TIA (this is africa).

<-- A village in the Adamaoua, as seen from the train on our way up north. These houses are known as "saaré's" (the word for house in Fulfuldé).

The next two pictures two the right are both views of Poli from the top of a hill, behind my house. This hill is where people can be found faire-ing le sport (rough translation = working out) by running or hiking up and down the hill. Children also climb this hill on a daily basis looking for firewood.

Here I am—a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV)—almost two weeks old and with more than a week at post under my belt. Before I relay all that’s new and exciting about the Grand North, I think I owe it to any of you wonderful people who bother to check this, a brief summary of all that’s happened between September and now… or the three months we fondly refer to as “Stage”. By the end of three months of showing up to “school” everyday, having essentially all my meals prepared for me, and living under the law that is Peace Corps admin (especially their 7pm curfew) I felt like I was leaving a weird version of some kind of summer camp (but probably with a lot more time spent at the bar than your average camper). As I mentioned in the last post (long ago) we had a routine schedule of language and technical training, with a few cultural and medical sessions thrown into the mix. Since I (fortunately and kind of surprisingly) came in with a level of French just below our swearing-in requirements, I had a month of French to “polish up” and learn rules, vocabulary, and whatever else I needed in order to reach level. These classes, along with the constant French immersion with my homestay family, drastically improved my language skills. After reaching the required level, I was able to begin studying Fulfude, the (non-official) language spoken throughout northern Cameroon, as well as much of West Africa. Tech training covered a range of topics including an overview of Cameroon’s climate zones, traditional farming techniques, agroforestry (A/F) techniques, environmental education, and a variety of other tools that might be useful as an agroforestry/environment “extension agent”. The more hands on part of the training included a group demo plot (which turned out to be very successful—the green beans we ate on Thanksgiving were our very own!), a tree nursery that each trainee kept outside the home of their village homestay family, and Dendro (tree ID) books. Admittedly, these last two weren’t as successful as the first, but I will note that my dendro book totally makes up for what my tree nursery (or lack thereof) was lacking. Lastly, it may be because we’re lucky, but probably because we’re just that cool, the “Agros” (as we came to call our camp as opposed to the Health or Santes) a couple of field trips: the first to the West region of Cameroon and the second to the Northwest region of Cameroon. [*I should note: “region” is like the equivalent of “state” in the U.S.—Cameroon has a total of 10 regions] Both trips served as a chance to see more of Cameroon, visit some PCVs, see A/F techniques put to use, and of course, some wonderful group bonding (while totally crammed into a questionable van and traversing the worst roads in Cameroon). Besides all the training, Stage was a wonderful time to get to know a lot of really great people. Outside of the classroom we could usually be found making friends with one of the local bartenders, buying some pagne (traditional fabric used to make clothes), or just kicking it with my homestay families. Homestay came with its own trials and tribulations: setting personal record time for how long I could hold my breath in the latrine, eating whatever was served to me regardless of the amount of palm oil it might be swimming in, or just restless nights (due to anything from loud rain to a mouse in my backpack), but all-in-all it I had a great experience with both homestays and truly left both with not only a feeling of family, but with a great deal of knowledge. I realized that in general, I through around lots of terns that are common to us, but foreign to anyone who’s not in country, so here’s some rough geography/general info that might help immensely: Cameroon is generally divided into the Grand North—containing the Extreme North, North, and Adamawa regions—where both French and Fulfulde are spoken, and the Grand South—Northwest, Southwest, West, Littoral, South, and East. Although the whole country is officially bilingual, the Northwest and Southwest are the two Anglophone regions where Pigdin (you might recognize some thanks to Shakira… “waka, waka, eh eh...it’s time for Africa”) is spoken. So now I’m finally at post. Things have slowed down and my time is mostly occupied with getting to know my surroundings, meeting new people, putting together my very own house (!), and in general, lots of time to myself. In terms of setting, some things are the same… there are still mamas on every corner selling beignets, the power still goes out sometimes, I still get my water from a forage (deep water well), and everyone from young girls to old men are covered head to toe in either brightly colored or simple, traditional pagne (probably even more so here than in the South). Some differences are that now along with French, everyone speaks Fulfulde; I am no longer in the tropics so it’s a much drier climate (and sometimes surprisingly chilly), and I am surrounded by a beautiful ring of hills which makes for an endlessly interesting landscape on a daily basis.

For your viewing pleasure: <--- marcotting = probably one of the coolest things i learned in stage. in short, some bark is shaved off a tree branch, pack the area with mulch, seal it with a plastic bag, wait for roots to grow (in the bag), cut under the area marcotted, place in polypot (plastic baggie filled with soil) and keep in a tree nursery or just plant! AWESOME.

fellow PCV (then PCT) teaching a high school class about the water cycle, water pollution, pertinent general environmental education -->

<--learning how to stir couscous de mais (corn flour + water) with my host grandma in the village

<--Agro stage class, right before site visit!

Last time i posted I was hoping to get some pictures up, so here they are! View from my hotel room in Yaounde.

  Our training center in Bafia! My host grand-mere in Lable gave me a cocoa "fruit" (half of it is in my left hand) and taught me some stuff about it. So the inside of the "fruit" is jam-packed with those white beans in my right hand, which can be sucked on for a sweet and tangy flavor. After than the white part is peeled off and those brown/black beans in my right hands are dried out and later crushed to make what we know as chocolate/cocoa in the raw. I took that hadfull of beans in the picture with the intent of drying them out, but due to the rain and my forgetfullness they've basically made themselves at home in my purse and will likely never evolve into their universally-loved chocolate form. Also, check out the right-hand corner of the picture, that's my peace corps issued machete!

It’s been a week in a half since our group of 50 landed in Cameroon, but it definitely feels like we’ve been here for way longer. Our first two nights (spent in Douala and Yaoundé, respectively) were jam-packed—meeting people (always more than 5 at once), accumulating materials (malaria pills, yay!), absorbing information (how to use a modern African toilet), and basically just being shuttled around from place to place with little knowledge of where we were actually going and what we would be doing. Fast-forward to now…

I have been living in Bafia for just over a week. Our group of 50 was divided by program, all the Agros stayed here in Bafia (the “semi-urban” town), and the health volunteers are scattered around 2 rural villages outside of Bafia—Lable and Nymsong. I will be living with my current host family until the last week in October, when I will be switching places with one of the health volunteers and moving in with a family in Lable. So here’s what I do all day: I wake up around 6am everyday to get ready for training (i.e. “school”). First thing I do every morning… BUCKET BATH. As some might know, (ehm, Pierce) I have some history with buckets and showering, but it’s a little different here. First of all, “shower” is no longer a word in my vocabulary. I take a bucket ¼ full with water, grab my cup, and basically make my own shower. It doesn’t sound too appealing, but I’ve been loving it (especially because it uses so little water!). I eat breakfast every morning with my youngest host brother, 8-year old Junior (not his real name, but the only thing he is called), which always makes for an interesting 15-30 minutes before I leave for training. From 7:30-4:30 I’m in training. This includes language/culture classes, technical training, and some medical info sessions here and there. I’ll try and get a post up soon with more about my living sitch/family and all about what were learning in tech training and the projects we’re working on, but I don’t have enough time/patience to fit it all in one post. I was hoping to post some pics but the internet is mega slow and it's getting late so I'll try again later this week.

I would love to tell you all about how awesome Cameroon is, buuuuut we missed our connection! Our flight was scheduled to leave JFK at 6:30pm, but due to lightning, rain, and runway traffic, we didn't takeoff until about 9pm. We got to Brussels at 10:10, right when boarding had ended, and the airline decided that they didn't have enough time to load all of our baggage onto the plane to Yaounde. After 3 hours all 50 of us finally had all of our baggage and we headed over to the hotel (arranged by American Airlines).

It's a bummer that we're not in Cameroon, but it is nice to have this break between flights, relax in a nice hotel, and even work out in a fitness room (likely for the last time for the next 2 years). Tomorrow we wake up bright and early to make our new flight, this time to Douala (east of Yaounde) at 10:30am. Since we still have serious PC business in Yaounde (i.e. pre-training and meeting the staff) we'll have to take and 8 hour bus ride from Douala to Yaounde, so it's going to be a loooooong day (of sitting on our butts).

Hopefully the next time I post it will be from the planned location!

I'm hanging out and waiting to get on a bus to take us to JKF, so I figured I'd post a short update.

Yesterday we spent all day in what the Peace Corps calls "Staging", a day full of sessions, basically for us to talk about expectations and get to know each other. The group leaving for Cameroon tonight is a group of 50 PCTs (PCT = Peace Corps Trainee, our new official title as of yesterday), all diverse and interesting individuals that I have been getting to know and definitely look forward to spending more time with. Half of the group is agro (agriculture volunteers... that's me!) and the other half is health.

I would love to write more, but we're getting on the bus now. Before I sign off I do have to give some big love to Philly. I was able to spend a great last night in the states, exploring the city and whatnot, so cheers to that.

*I did edit my first post. I originally posted that I will be flying to Cameroon tomorrow (which is true in a way), but I am leaving NYC tonight, getting to Brussels around 8am (local time) and then finally arriving to Yaounde, Cameroon around 4pm (local time) on Fri. Sept. 17.

I'll keep my eyes open for an internet cafe in Yaounde and post about all the beautiful and interesting things I'll be seeing!!

I'm new to the blogging world (or blogosphere, if you will), so let me start off with something easy. Here's my rough schedule for the next week:Sat. Sept. 11 - Tues. Sept. 14 --> pack, panic, etc.Wed. Sept. 15 --> 9am flight to Philadelphia. Spend the next day and a half taking in my last tastes of America, getting vaccinations, and beginning life as a Peace Corps Trainee.Thurs. Sept. 16 --> morning: continue to advance east, stopping in nyc to blow the day in jfk. evening: fly to Cameroon (no big deal).

Until the next time I feel inspired enough to share my thoughts on the interwebs, here are a few ways to contact me after I leave the U.S.:

email me - dbahir/gmail/comskype me - (search my name)send me facebook love - (also my name) send me a letter/postcard/package/edible arrangement/candygram (just kidding about the last two):*I've heard that it helps to write in red ink... up to you, just let me know if I should be expecting something in the mail.Dori Bahir

Peace Corps Trainee

Corps de la Paix

B.P. 215

Yaoundé, Cameroon

AFRICA

Par Avion

Once I get in country, I'll probably get a local cell phone and learn all the other contact details worth sharing. (Oh and of course develop a nice, long list of things I desperately want sent to me).