Season of Thanksgiving

There is a lot to be thankful this year. And going with this season of Thanksgiving I want to share with you what I am thankful for this year.

I am thankful for Meiganga. My compound. My 7 little brothers and their parents which are mine too. I am thankful for the security that living in a compound brings. I can sleep well at night knowing that there are always 9 other people living with me. I am thankful for work. My 3 savings groups; 1 in Dana (17 km from Meiganga) which will start saving in January whose group name means in Gbaya: 'Working for tomorrow.' My group in Meidougou  is about to finish their 2nd year of saving and finally my group at Centre Socio, an alternative school for girls who learn how to be tailors. I am thankful that the technical high school in Meiganga now has access to a world map that 4 students, a teacher and myself worked tirelessly on for a month. 

I am thankful for my Peace Corps support system. I am grateful that I was able to host Thanksgiving at my house for not only volunteers but my Cameroonian neighbors as well. I am thankful that we had food on the table that tasted like Thanksgiving. I am thankful that I wasn't homesick. How could I be? 10 PCVs and 7 Cameroonians sharing a Thanksgiving meal in my living room. I am thankful for how cheap beers are in Cameroon and that kids will just dance even if there is no music.

I am thankful for my family back home who I get to speak to every Sunday afternoon. I am thankful for my dad's health, my mom's positivity when I have an awful day and my sister who is planning her trip to Cameroon with Ben. I am thankful for being able to celebrate James and Jill's wedding in August and dancing the night away with the Nicolai clan. I am thankful for my new cousin in the Zanrosso clan and being able to catch up while I was home.

I have been blessed beyond measure. Some years I would struggle to say at the dinner table what I was thankful for, but this year the list doesn't stop. Never before have I have been completely comfortable in my skin and content with where I am in my life...so that is what I am most thankful for.

Thanksgiving evening filled with laughter, great food, great company and lots of dancing!

Local Computer Training Center

Meiganga has been my home now for 14 months now. It is a wonderful place to live and work. I am asking now for my friends and family back home to have a direct impact on my home away from home. My postmates, Andrew, Emma and now Charla, have been working on creating a Computer Training Center in Meiganga for over a year now. This project is intended to create a computer training school open to the community. The profits from inscription fees would go towards updating and expanding the capacity of the school as well as, in the future, paying professionals for their time spent teaching. The computer training is intended to increase the technical competency in our village and the surrounding areas, allowing community members to better utilize and understand information technology on various levels. 

This center already has people lined up to use it! If this project is funded, Charla and I will be hosting a 3 day computer camp at this training center for our A2Empowerment scholarship girls. Check out the link on the bottom of this blog. Any donations would be greatly appreciated. If you are able to pass this link along the community of Meiganga would be forever grateful. 

Thank you! Merci! Oseuko jur! 


https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=694-212

Different

When I had my first interview for the Peace Corps, I remember thinking when hearing about the lack of privacy I should expect that it couldn't possibly be true. How is it acceptable to have kids just look at you through your windows and stare? Or if they are even more annoying yell your name constantly until you respond or they get tired; the latter of the two is normally it.

I feel bad for celebrities and zoo animals because that is my life. People gawking at you all day or if they get enough courage actually coming up to say hello. The worst is when people touch my hair or stroke my arm. Its weird, but in an even weirder way I understand. I look different; I dress different; I act different. 

Some days it gets to me more than others. It doesn't bother me when I get invited into a "hair salon" and the hair dresser just wants to touch my hair or when little kids exam my hands and are puzzled by the freckles. I am still not a fan of kids staring at me through the windows though. 

I was traveling back to Meiganga and my car stopped to pick up passengers in this small town in the middle of nowhere Cameroon. It was market day there which happens once a week. As soon as I get out of the car to stretch my legs, almost instantly a group of 15 young boys crowds around me. They sat staring at me with their jaws dropped saying nothing; no hellos, just stares.

As I am writing this and reflecting on my first Peace Corps interview I am laughing inside. I now understand what it means to have no privacy, people searching through your trash to find what the white has thrown away, or having a group of kids join you on your run. 

On va faire comment? What are you going to do about it? 

Happy Tuesday!

I am just going to go out and say it...my parents are too darn cute! Look at them in the traditional outfits that my friends had made for them!

Adjusting back

I have been back in Cameroon for a little over 2 weeks now. I was welcomed back into country with a 22 hour bus ride; it took longer to get from Yaounde to Meiganga than Los Angeles to Yaounde! Home feels like a distant past. Saying goodbye to my parents this time around there were no tears shed, a breif hug and a "see ya later!" Then we waved goodbye. I keep showing pictures of my time home and the most common response is that I look just like my mom!

After that nasty bus ride, I got right back in the swing of things. I kept telling Emma and Samantha, my postmate and cluster mate respectively, that if I sit down I will not get back up. So lets keep going! What I am referring to is a little ceremony that Emma and I had planned for our scholarship girls. An NGO, A2Empowerment, awards girls in Cameroon scholarships for High School based upon need and merit. Last year we had a difficult time with attendance of monthly meetings and girls thinking the scholarship was a gift not something that they earned. 

This year we tried changing things up. We held a ceremony to give out their scholarships and certificates. A guardian for each girl was invited as well as the principals from each school and other important community figures. Although only 3 of the invited 9 officials showed up, it still was considered a success. Speeches were made by Emma and I as well as the principals in attendance. Emma and I focused on, "We are here for you!"  

I honestly think it resonated with the girls. The mom's were proud, we were proud, A2Empowerment is proud. After the ceremony we celebrated with cakes and soda and went on to enjoy our Saturday. Our next meeting is September 29th where we will be talking about goal setting for the school year. We have fun monthly meetings planned for the girls. 

Coming home was a necessary break for me. It allowed me to clear my head, enjoy the company of loved ones. Thank you all for the hugs, the kind words, the letters, everything. My second year is going to be a great one...I can just feel it. I cannot wait to share it with you :)

Delicious cakes that Emma made!

The seats for the officials invited.

Emma and I with the girls after the ceremony.

Your prayers have been answered...

On May 28, 2011, I remember thinking at my going away party that there is no possible way that I will be able to find the same support system in Cameroon. I wish each one of you could visit Meiganga, have tea or a cold beer with my friends; just sit and talk with them. They are my support system here. You would love them! They ask about my friends and family back home and I respond, "My family is a HUGE; my friends and my neighbors are my family." Normally the response is shock and shortly followed, 'WOW! You have an African family!' And that is true.

I want to share with you all my family here. Here are some of my closest friends. They are the reason why I love where I live. So my friends where ever you are in the world right now, just know that I have found a community, support system, and friends in Meiganga. I wish though I had a picture of the Peace Corps Staff because they too are my family.

I wish that you all could meet my Cameroonian family, but photos will have to do. See you all in August!  :)

Dennis is my soccer buddy! Dennis invited me to play with his friends and playing again has made me happier at post. He is a great friend! (The girls, left to right, Samantha & Charla are my postmates)

Amanda, my neighbor, and me on her birthday! I made her a cake and we all sang Happy Birthday in French and English. We sit on my porch daily together discussing gossip, preparing food, or sharing food from each others' home towns. She is my cheerleader in Meiganga and my go to person who will defend me from creepy men in town!

After church Easter morning with the Dokos, my landlord's family who lives in the concession with me. They have 7 boys who always seem to put a smile on my face when I am having a bad day. And Mr. & Mrs. Doko are always the first people I ask when I need help!

Hadidja and Salilou are wonderful. Always offering a warm meal, a cup of tea and a place to rest my head when I am not feeling well. 

Fanta, my Community Host, and I after the Fete du Mouton celebrations. She offers insight on the Cameroonian culture, she is a person to laugh with and grab a beer. Plus she is an amazing cook!

Gbaya Funeral

It’s never a fun topic. What is fun about death? Lately, the stories here have been beyond anyone’s imagination. A young adult who had his whole life to live whose 2 year old daughter died the year prior, the father of 5 young children, a woman who was too ashamed to acknowledge her HIV status and did not take the free treatment that would have prolonged her life. These are just a few of the stories. Everyone has theirs', but somehow here they are just heart wrenching. But we can learn from peoples’ experiences; we can learn how to laugh amongst the tears.

The family I lived with lost their grandmother one Monday afternoon. She passed away at 13:30 and I was there shortly after. It was Emmajene’s mom. She had been sick, could not help with the birth of her daughter’s 7^th son, it was expected. But as with any death, expected means nothing. Death is death. I have been to my fair share of funerals, but in the states you know what to expect. You pray the Rosary, may or may not see an open casket, there are flowers, there are quiet tears. The funeral was of a Christian, Gbaya beloved mother of 3 girls and 1 boy, countless grandchildren.

Immediately after hearing the news of her passing, Amanda (my other neighbor in the concession) and I went directly to her house. Amanda comes from another region of Cameroon where there are different mourning customs, so we both were in for a cultural shock. The grandmother was lying on a foam bed in the corner of the room. There was a white sheet, which is customary, covering her body just until the nose. Each nostril had a bit of cotton in it. And women were surrounding her crying; a cry that is none like anything that we are accustomed to; a cry that was like a scream, a plea, a prayer, a whaling. When another woman walks into the room, she greets one of the family members with a handshake that is reserved only for giving your condolence. Then the women start the loud cries. Its gives you chills and immediately brings tears to your eyes. People do not cry here; it is only for mourning. Women do not even cry during childbirth. Men especially do not cry.

Therefore, when seeing the youngest son, 20 years old, burst into the room, threw himself on the bed that his mom laid on, and screamed. It was surreal. I have been to enough funerals, but the last time I really saw death, it was my Grandma Nicolai and I was in the 4^th grade. I did not understand that my dad and I were going to the hospital to “claim” her. Life here is hard, and sometimes I forget that people actually feel. That may sound insensitive, but in the States we are so accustomed to people wearing their emotions on their sleeves. Here that is just not the case.

The next morning, I went to the house to bring a kilo of sugar as a gift and to greet the family. I was told to come back later that afternoon for the funeral. The funeral happened in Gbaya, one of the other local languages here. As they were lowering the casket a family member jumped into the grave crying; in order to get him out people had to throw in money. (100 CFA about 20 cents) After the funeral, family and close friends were invited to drink Buie together (the spelling is wrong, but it is like a rice drink and depending where you are in the country they will mix in sugar, peanut butter or cinnamon). A mat was placed in the center and people who aided in taking care of the Grandmother were invited to sit on the mat together. Then 2 elder women rubbed oil on them all. Apparently, it is a tradition which mean, ‘Congratulations.’ I interpreted it as, ‘you did your part in taking care of the person. Your work is done and we thank you.’

Charla, my postmate, and I taking care of the babies at the funeral.

The women greeting one of the Grandmother's daughters after the burial. A sign of respect at a funeral is to greet someone by laying on the ground. Then who you are greeting will then lift your head to say 'thank you.' 

Before the burial greeting someone on the ground there were tears, but after the burial it is a celebration of life and joyous. 

Taking care of Emmajean's youngest son.