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.

Looking Back

As my 1 year mark quickly approaches, I decided to read how far I have come by re-reading my old blog posts. Let me updated my dedicated followers.

Fish. I am still not a huge fan of fish, but I will eat it. I will not eat the head, the eyes or the tail, but I want to try the fins because I hear that they taste like chips. I was at the US Embassy in Yaounde last weekend and I was offered fish and given a fork and knife. I tried using the knife and realized that I have only ever eaten fish with my hands. So I switched my tools for eating and was then called "villageois" by a gentleman from Nigeria.

Bush Meat. I found out 6 weeks after living with my Host Family what type of bush meat I was eating; hedgehog. It tasted like beef but with a lot of little bones. Right now is termite season, so I am trying to get the courage to eat some. People say that they are delicious. The next thing on my list, which is a huge honor, is to it Boa aka snake. Where I live, women are not allowed to eat certain meats, and boa is one of them. So to be offered a dish is a huge honor and I will not be able to say no.

Toilet Situation. I have a "Western Toilet" as they like the call it here and I HATE IT! A latrine, a hole in the ground, is much cleaner when you do not have reliable water. Sometimes I have dreams of having a latrine. Life would so much easier. But another I have learned along the way, is always travel in skirts. That is because when you have to go and there is no latrine your only other option is to ease yourself on the side of the road and pants would expose you too much, you can hide yourself better with a skirt.

Work. I am all over the place with work, but I have found that my favorite type of work is teaching groups how to make new things to sell or just to improve their daily life: lotion or American style cakes. Right now I am working on making soap and learning how to infuse oils to improve the quality of the soaps and lotions. My next goal for the upcoming school year is to do a training with Primary School Teachers who do not make that much, around $140 a month, on how to make their own products so that they can save money throughout the year.

I still work with my group in the next village over. In the next few months I am going to be working with their kids, about 30 kids or so, to introduce "Piggie Banks" to them. When I first explained the concept to their moms, their were shocked that kids in the States save money! They demanded, in a nice and enthusiastic way of course, that I teach their kids!

The most important thing I have learned with work is that things do not always go as planned. I was and still am passionate about doing the Women's Rights and Empowerment club to educate women of the community about issues going on in the world, but it just did not work out. I am sad about it, but I still have another year to see if I can do something with that project idea. Also, the kids candy business failed because the boys kept eating their candy. It was a good learning lesson for them about a business and for me as well: giving candy to 5 kids under the age of 15 and expecting them not to eat their candy was ridiculous on my part, but we had fun in the process.

If anyone has anymore questions for me shoot me an email: daniellenicolai@gmail.com. I love hearing from you in emails and letter forms. It makes the bridge between Cameroon and the United States just a little bit smaller. Thank you for all of your support over this past year. I cannot wait for what year 2 has in store for me!

Danielle Nicolai
B.P 89
Meiganga
Cameroun

Transformation

I came to Cameroon to "save the world." But I have found that through this experience that I am learning more about myself. June 1st will be my 1 year in country. To me, it feels as though I have been in Cameroon for just a few short months. When I asked my Dad what he thought, he responded immediately, "YES! It feels like you have been gone for 2 years!" There are days when I feel like the end of my 27 month service cannot come fast enough, but now that I am reflecting on this past year; I do not want to leave. I keep thinking of ways to get back; if not Cameroon someplace in West/Central Africa. I feel at home here. When I am away from Meiganga, I miss my friends, work, the comfort of seeing familiar faces greeting me as I pass.

Before I came to Cameroon, I knew absolutely no French. One of our family friends told me before I left, "Bon voyage!" and I responded, "Bon voyage!" Now, when I am upset I have an easier time expressing myself in French rather than English. For example: I was in an Anglophone village (English Speaking part of Cameroon) and a Juju hit me in the head with a stick. I was so upset that the first words out of my mouth were in French.

I know certain character traits about myself. I am a perfectionist, Type A, like things done my way and done on my watch type of person. Well, let me just tell ya, that is not the way things are done here.  Its this weird thing that happens now when everything is in chaos, its literally as if all I hear is static like when the TV or radio is on a bad channel. I am able now to sit of long car rides, next to smelly people, goats in the trunk and having a goat snack on my ponytail and all I hear is static. Things do not phase me as much anymore.

With that being said, I have now become more feisty. If someone is bothering me I have no qualms letting the person know how I feel, yelling at someone, or saying a witty remark to make the other person feel uncomfortable. When someone tries to rip me me off, I normally say something like, "You are a thief!" or "You are a comedian!" I tell people I am Cameroonian, which generally their response is, "You cannot be Cameroonian. You are white, only blacks are Cameroonian." Then I will respond, "I cook your food. I wear your clothes. I speak your languages. I live here. I have an I.D. card. I am just as Cameroonian as you are."

I still would love to change the world, but I am; just in a way that I did not think I would. I am changing the people around me. It might be small changes, but those small changes mean the world to them. Its the conversations that I have. Explaining to people, that is both not normal and not healthy for a 13 year old girl to get married to a 40+ year old man. I am 24, unmarried and kid-less. That is a monumental idea to a lot of people. I also feel like I am empowering the women I work with. When I walk into a meeting where the women are taking French classes, then introduce myself in Fufulde. They are shocked that English is my first language, that I just learned French and that I trying to speak Fufulde. When I show them by example that what they think is impossible, learning another language, is possible, their eyes light up. Those are just a few things that I feel like that I have had an impact with; but here are a few more. Introducing saving 200 CFA a week (about 40 cents), what a Piggie Bank is or making new types of products to sell.

Yes, there are extremely difficult days. Times when I almost get robbed, a rock gets thrown at me, the kids wake me up at 6am yelling in all my windows, men tell me that I need to be their wife, or have their babies. But I think the most important thing I have learned is to brush things off and laugh about something that happened. If I let the uncontrollable bother me too much, if I let the hard times get to me too much; then I would not be here.

After almost 1 year in country, I have reached a sense a peace. I am more comfortable in my skin than I have ever been. I have reached a sense of calm that I did not think would be possible for this Type A person.

My transformation.

Traditional Life: Jujus

Cameroon is known as "Africa in Miniature," which is exactly what it is. In one day's worth of travel one can go from the savanna to the jungle, then the next day to rolling mountains. With such diversity in landscape comes extreme diversity in culture. Cameroon is divided into 10 regions, which can be loosely grouped into 3 categories - Grand North, Gran South and Grand West. In the Grand North, where I am posted, there is more of a common cultural connection due to Islam.

I find it interesting when visiting other regions how diverse culturally Cameroon actually is. From what I have found, throughout Cameroon there is some aspect of the traditional culture. There is a "Fon," "Lamido," or "Chief" depending on the region. The person is the Traditional ruler. Where I am in Meiganga, the Lamido is not a big deal, in comparison to other areas. From my understanding, his main role is to settle household or land discrepancy matters. But in other regions the traditional life is the life of the people. I first visited Kumbo, Northwest in December for the "Cultural Festival." It was an annual celebration to unify the Banso area and to celebrate their unique traditions.

During this Cultural Festival week it was, to oversimplify, a large party at the palace, home of the Fon. People from all over the Banso area as well as Cameroon came to participate in the festivities. One of the most interesting parts of the Festival was the "Juju." A Juju is a spirit embodied by a person whose face is covered by cloth, a mask, or paint; and only the people in the traditional house know who the Juju is.

Throughout the year in the Kumbo area the Jujus only come out for special occasions: death of someone high up in the traditional house, Holidays, etc. During the Cultural Festival Jujus are out in full force as well as spectators. Each Juju is completely different. Because they each embody a different spirit, each Juju has different appearances and mannerisms; there is also a power structure. Some Jujus are more powerful than others, and the more powerful the Juju is, the more the people respect it.

Some Jujus are reigned in by a group of men trying to control the spirit. Some will dance around, others will do flips down the road and most have sticks or daggers in their hands commanding the respect of the people around them. When a Juju passes you, you must crouch down (like the catcher's pose), put your right hand in a fist and cup it at the bottom with your left hand and lastly, bow your head if you do not want to see the wrath of the Juju. I have seen one Juju beat and drag a man around for not following the protocol.

I went back to the Kumbo area this past weekend to attend a Shey Coronation ceremony of a friend. A "Shey" is someone who has been given title in one of the traditional houses by the Fon. After the ceremony, a group in the community dressed up as Jujus and danced for us. The video below and the 2 pictures above are from the cultural soiree. It was a fun interpretation of such a powerful, important and unique aspect of the culture in the Kumbo area. The rest of the photos are from the Cultural Festival in December. I hope that you find it just as interesting as I did. I showed these pictures to other Peace Corps Volunteers in other parts of Cameroon and they were all so amazed by the Jujus. Enjoy!

Kumbo, Northwest, Cameroon Cultural Festival

December 2011

Kumbo, Northwest, Cameroon Cultural Festival

December 2011

Kumbo, Northwest, Cameroon Cultural Festival

December 2011

Kumbo, Northwest, Cameroon Cultural Festival

December 2011

Dancing Juju Group

Nkar, Northwest, Cameroon Coronation Ceremony

April 2012

Dancing Juju Group

Nkar, Northwest, Cameroon Coronation Ceremony

April 2012

Dr. Nicolai

Today I had a meeting with a new women's group in Meiganga. I walk into the living room and start talking (with the help of a translator) to the members, when I notice that the President's son sits right in front of me and had one of his sleeves rolled up. Apparently the boy thought I was a doctor coming to give him a vaccination. Just another day in the life of a Peace Corps Volunteer; getting confused as doctors.

Hodgepodge

My mom would not be proud of me. I can still hear her yell from downstairs, “Turn off the TV!” I am not exactly sure what I thought my life would be like when joining the Peace Corps; maybe a mud hut with a grass roof, no electricity or water and definitely not enough TV and movies on my external hard drive to make Netfix worried that I might be able take over their business.

I am ashamed to say that I have watched countless movies and TV shows. I have an addiction to my computer (also known as my portal into the modern world). Something needs to change. During my first 3 months I escaped into the world of the circus in Water for Elephants, relived each of the housekeepers’ stories in The Help and reevaluated my perception of how to look at problems with Journey to the East; but I hit a plateau. I cannot remember what the last book I read or even when I read it.

Times are a changin' over here in Meiganga. This girl is hiding her external hard drive and picking up her Kindle. First on the list to reread The Red Tent and Rebecca; two of my favorite books. Then maybe after I will start the Hunger Game series  because I am almost positive with the way my newsfeed on Facebook is blowing up about the movie/books when I come home and have not read the books people will be more shocked than the fact that I just came home from Cameroon.

Other than this not-so-monumental news from me, my life is pretty standard here. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Well maybe a few things; yesterday for breakfast I had oatmeal with brown sugar (thanks Aunt Michela), bacon (thanks Uncle D and gang!) and Starbucks (Thanks Mom & Dad). Its days like that when you have a taste from home it makes being away that much easier. Now today I am having my hand at making my favorite Cameroonian dish: Peanut Sauce with Rice. And after 2 months of no running water I will indulge in a warm shower in the afternoon. (No I do not have a hot water heater, because it is so hot out right now the water pipes heat up thus giving me warm water.)

I ask now that you say a little prayer or send positive healing vibes, whichever you prefer, over to two very important people in my life; My Dad and Tamera Topping. Pray that my dad can finally put this prostate cancer forever behind him and that Tamera will have the strength necessary to continue to battle her cancer with such grace and positivity like she has been. Bon guérison et du courage!

And I just want to throw this picture in because this is a hodgepodge of a blog post. Spiderman was spotted in my concession.