Cameroonians say the darndest things...

So I have been told some pretty funny things by Cameroonians. I want to write them down and share them before I start to forget.

• After getting off the phone with Emma, my post mate, the person sitting next to me said: "Was that English? It did not sound like it. You don't know English. You really need to learn it."
• My neighbor Amanda while holding my cat and talking to him:  "You would make such a good dinner! We need to fatten you up!"
• At the bar with Amanda and this crazy man asks me: "Are there people like you in America? Big, huge, fat people like you?"
• Creepy guy comes over to my house as I was preparing to leave for the weekend...I no longer talk to this person or allow him to come inside my concession: "You travel too much. I need to put a collar around your neck and lock you to your couch so you can't leave."
• On the back of a motorcycle and the driver tells me in Fufulde: "I want you. I want to have your white babies."
• After leaving a restaurant while wearing my traditional outfit a man approaches Emma: "How much can I buy your friend for?"
• My friend grabs my stomach after not seeing me because I was on vacation: "Danielle, you got fat." 
• At someone's house: "Greet my friend on the phone...(once I hand the phone back over she tells her friend) I am with a white right now. Ya! She is sitting on my couch."

People like to tell you that you have gotten fatter when you have been away, even if it isn't true whatsoever! You just have to laugh. These are just a few things that I have been told that I can actually remember.

Resilience Training

Peace Corps had a session highlighting tactics for resilience during my first 3 months of training. The main theme that we were told was “just deal with it.” Most people found it amusing; others were upset because they were not given concrete answers. Since being in Meiganga I have had a lot of time to self reflect. The best training I could ever receive for my current job was from my parents and sister. If I let in a goal that I knew that I should have blocked, instead of giving me a pat on the back and saying, “It’s ok Danielle. You tried your best.” I was told, “Get over it and move on.” Still my favorite is, “Figure it out.” Though it seemed harsh at the time, I realized this past week how thankful I am for that harshness. It was the difference in making an awful situation manageable.

I work with a Fufulde only women’s group in the neighboring town. The woman who I replaced, Claire, had formed the group and found a translator, Moustapha. The group has been meeting for over a year saving money. Each member saves about 200 CFA a week which is about 40 cents. Moustapha and Claire helped the group save up enough money to buy a refrigerator so that they could sell yogurt.

Last Thursday Moustapha passed away. I visited him 3 days before he died in the hospital. He could barely walk and speak. He was literally skin and bones and the doctors couldn’t figure out the culprit for the sickness. He was 23 years old. After seeing him so sick I started to have nightmares for a week. I went to his funeral on Saturday. His family fed me and I sat with friends and talked about the life of a person who I had just met only a few months ago.

This past Tuesday I went to the Women’s Group without a translator, not armed with my Fufulde dictionary and not knowing what to expect. I went to the meeting and once I realized that doing this alone would be too much to handle, I left to find someone who could help me. I came back to the meeting with a 9 year old boy who spoke Fufulde and French. He was amazing and beyond helpful.

The short time after Moustapha’s death, I kept thinking ‘what am I going to do?’ I had completely forgotten about the women in the group. At the meeting on Tuesday, the women asked me if I will still help out. With tears in my eyes I promised the women that for as long as I am in Meiganga I will be there every Tuesday. Because they are not allowed to leave their houses without the permission of their husbands, I also promised that I will find them a trustworthy translator. The women were ecstatic and thankful. One woman told me, “Thank you, Dany. We know that you are trying with your Fufulde. If you stay with us we will be able to help you.”

That was the first time since being here that someone has told me thank you for my help. But getting back to my main point, this past week was heartbreaking, stressful, tiring, and scary but after Tuesday everything changed. Yes, this is still an awful situation, but it is manageable. The village loved Moustapha and people are willing to help out. I realized that after Tuesday if I can find a translator literally on the street and run a meeting in a language that I barely know, I am going to be ok. That is the best training, as hard as it might be, but I know hearing “figure it out” from a young age prepared me more than I could have ever imagined this past Tuesday.

The Women's Group and Moustapha is in the front.

Karma in Cat Form

For those of you who have known me since the days when I would not let you comb my hair, kick and scream, ask “why” a billion times, or wake my parents up informing them that I did not feel like cooperating today at 5am; I have received my karma, in the form of a cat, for all my deranging that I did as a child. I am sure that the “Cat Gods” are finding this quite amusing.

I decided a few weeks ago that I would close the hole in the window so Makala cannot leave the house while I am gone. (Important background information: my cat is black. People here believe in sorcery and use black cats for sorcery purposes. So I closed the window because I would like to have my cat for 2 years and not have him wind up as sorcery meat.) Let’s just say that Makala was less than enthusiastic with this decision. 

Generally, I wake up around 5:52 every morning to Makala crying. Well the other morning I let Makala cry for a about 30 minutes before I decided to leave the comforts of my bed to make sure that he did not set my house on fire. Well this brilliant cat got himself stuck in between the screen door and the door. He crawled through the little opening in the screen but could not manage to get himself out. So naturally he decided to climb his way out. And thus, this is how this photo came about.

The next day I hear Makala crying. Once again I just let him cry because all he ever does is cry.  Well Makala decided to climb to banana tree outside of my house and hop on over to my neighbor’s roof.  Then he could not figure out his way down. So I came to the rescue once again.

And I will end with this gem of a video. This. Is. My. Daily. Life. With. Makala.

Major Typo

I made a major error in my last post...this is the corrected section. I am very sorry.

We will discuss topics like human trafficking in the United States, The Middle East and now extremist cultural is getting confused with Islam when in reality the Qur’an does not support the actions.

Our Game Plan

I am telling you about this plan in the planning stages rather than later. This plan gives me chills because of the impact it could have. Emma, my post mate, and I are starting to plan a women’s club for a month before and after Women’s Day, March 8, 2012.

This is the grand idea: women of all ages will meet once a week for 1-2 hours. Each week we will discuss something that is going on in the world that is happening to women. There are not many maps in Cameroon, so this will allow the women to look on a map and hear other people’s stories. We will start off discussing what is going on in our neighboring country, Congo. People do not know about the method of warfare; rape. Then we would talk about how rape is a violation of your rights, how rape is never ok, and how as a woman you should not feel bad for saying no.

We will discuss topics like human trafficking in the United States, The Middle East and now extremist cultural is getting confused with Islam when in reality the Qur’an does not support the actions. We will inform the group of the rights that are guaranteed to women in Cameroon. We will discuss articles in Cameroon’s national law that violates these rights. We will talk about powerful women in the world and what they are doing to change the system or what they are doing to overcome. But most importantly we will ask the women how they feel. How they feel when their husband take another wife, or when they are the second wife. How do they feel when they are expecting to take care of the house all day, take care of the kids and then have a meal at the end of the day waiting for their husband. How do they feel when they aren’t allowed to go to school, told that they are not intelligent, and beaten. We want them to raise their voices, to discuss, to debate, to learn, to feel empowered, and at the very least to change in some capacity.

Emma introduced me to Eve Ensler’s book I am an Emotional Creature. I am now reading her book A Memory, A Monologue, A Rant, and A Prayer. We want to tie in Ensler’s “V-Day” campaign to our group. (If you haven’t read her books, I would really recommend them or seeing the play Vagina Monologues at the local college campus) Both Emma and I are extremely excited about the potential about this group. We joked that people are already going to think this is a radical idea so we should not sugar coat the topics that we bring to the group. If you have articles, stories, or thoughts please send them our way. 

$10 USD

Today I visited my friend's son in the hospital. She looked into her wallet and told me that the money has run out. Her son needs to be at the hospital til Monday if not longer, but if she cannot find the necessary funds by tomorrow morning he will have to leave. He is the sickest child I have ever seen. I am almost certain that without treatment he will die. What do you do? All she needs is 5,000 CFA which is about $10 USD. $10 dollars is stopping this child from potentially dying.

Another one of my friends had a splinter that got extremely infected. She was about a day away from going septic. Do you know what was stopping her from going to the hospital? 10,000 CFA about $20 USD. My other Volunteer friend gave her the money. She spend 4 days in the hospital and without the $20 I am absolutely certain she would have died.

What we take for granted back home is amazing. Until being in Cameroon, I would have never thought twice about $10. It is pennys for us. But here, $10 is literally life or death. I am not quite sure about the purpose of this post is other than to inform. I am going back to the hospital in the morning to see how my friend's son is. This has been weighing on my heart all day. I cannot get the child out of my mind. Hopefully tomorrow will be a new day for this little boy.

Fête du Mouton

This past weekend I prepared and celebrated the Fête du Mouton or the Feast of the Ram. This holiday symbolizes Isaac’s sacrifice of the lamb to solidify his covenant with God, which is a story in the Bible as well as in the Qu’ran. I felt like I missed out on the Ramadan festivities, so I more than made up with this fête. The theme of this weekend was “Do as the Cameroonians would do.” And I think I did just that.

Friday: Emma and I went over to our friend Hadjia’s house to get sepia done. A lot of cultures have their form of henna. Hadija then took us over to her friend’s house who then drew on us, for lack of a better term. (Cultural Side note: Hadijia is rarely allowed out of the house. Her husband is who I consider to be a moderate Muslim man who allows her to leave her concession to go to the market and see friends. I have known since I have moved to Meiganga and this is the first time that I have seen her leave her concession.) While Emma and I were getting our sepia done, we were playing with everyone’s kids. One  4 year old yelled at his mom right around bed time, “Mom! I cannot go to bed, I am too excited! There are Nascaras (white people) here!"

Just as the seipa was drying. Walking through the market afterwards, people thought that I got married.

Saturday: It was the calm before the storm of festivities. I waited 45 minutes for a meeting to start before I gave up and went back home. But during that time I was sitting while these little kids were touching my hands and feet because I had sepia.

Sunday: I was told when I first arrived in Cameroon 5 months ago that there are 3 categories of people here: 1. Cameroonian Men, 2. Cameroonian Women, and 3. Foreign Men and Women. I never understood what the person was talking about until Sunday when I attended the Fête du Mouton prayer. I invited my neighbor, Nene, to join me to watch the grand prayer. It would be both of our first times. Thousands of men were in the front praying and in another field the women prayed. This is a part of Muslim culture that the men and women are separated for prayer. I wanted to see the prayer, so I came in a traditional outfit, armed with my camera. I was nervous to take pictures or to even be there for that matter since I am a woman, but someone I knew made me go the front of the prayer to snap a ton of shots. After the prayer, my friend came again and told me that I needed to have a front row view of the sacrificing of the ram. I explained to him that I didn’t feel comfortable because I was the only female and not Muslim. He explained to me that because I am a woman who is a foreigner the rules don’t apply to me. He then took my camera and took a ton of pictures for me.

The Grand Prayer

Nene and me at the Grand Prayer

Emma and my beautiful feet.

Emma and Me on my front steps with Makala about to leave for the festivities.

The Meiganga Crew!! Charla (Youth Development), Me (Small Business Development), Carlos (Health), Emma (Health), Andrew (English Teacher) and Fanta (Charla and my Community Host as well as good friend)

Later on that day, all of the volunteers in the Meiganga area went to Hadijia’s house to feast. I baked an apple pie for the festivities. After Hadijia’s, I went to someone else’s house where I met a baby named Barak Obama. I ended the ended the day with having a girl’s night at my house and had hot chocolate.

Monday: Emma, Charlotte and I were walking around Meiganga. We walked past the Grand Mosque, when someone told us that we should come inside. We got a VIP tour of the under construction Mosque and a soda! Then, we all went to Meidigou to my friend Sal’s first wife’s house. Hadijia is his second wife. There we ate a ridiculous amount of goat again. We had a dance party with all of the concession children.

Tuesday: I went back to Meidigou for a women’s group meeting that I attend every week. I didn’t realize that the Fête was still going on. During the meeting people stopped by to greet us and the President of the group gave them money. It is almost like people go Trick-o-treating, but instead of candy people get money. I was given 600 CFA, which is like $1.10. I was shocked and beyond grateful. These women don’t have much, they save around 200 CFA a week, so the amount I was given is a huge amount! All I could say was “Useko jur” or “Thanks a lot” with tears in my eyes.

This weekend was jammed packed with festivities. From a cultural standpoint, it was an eye opening experience. Back home, I do not think I know any Muslim families. I felt like I experienced all aspects of the holiday. Especially at the grand prayer, I had to take a step back and say a “Thank you” to have been given this opportunity: to being in Meiganga, to be in Cameroon, to work for the Peace Corps, to making new friends.