Finally Being a PCV: First Lesson in the Truth of the Phrase “Du Courage” – Dealing with Hives and Confronting an Assailant

This week was a whirlwind of amazing highs, and disheartening lows – sometimes both in the same day. “Du courage” means something like ‘stay strong.’ On Sunday, the entirety of the Bokito crew was surprised to learn that we had to be packed with all our things a day early. Unsurprisingly, over the past month, we’ve all accumulated lots more stuff – from the piles of training manuals, language books and papers, to our water filter, moto helmet, mosquito nets, and so much more. Several sweaty hours later, everything was squeezing and shoved into every nook and cranny of my footlocker, duffle bag and backpack. And what better way to celebrate taking one more step in our journey to post/being a PCV than by watching Cameroon beat Tunisia 4-1 in the World Cup qualifying game over beers at one of the local bars with the other health stagiares and plenty of enthusiastic Cameroonians!

Monday was the first in the string of rollercoaster days, as it was both very exciting to learn more details about our future lives at post and get more materials (read: lots more heavy manuals about different health topics). Our CD (Country Director), Jackie, led sessions going over the volunteer manual on different topics from safety and security, to health, to travel policies (READ: IF PEOPLE COME TO VISIT ME, IT DOESN’T COUNT AS ONE OF MY 48 DAYS OF VACATION OVER TWO YEARS – aka, if any of you fancied visiting Africa/Cameroon/me, this is the ideal opportunity to have a guided tour). Jackie also told me that Allely and I would be staying with her on Tuesday night – they started a new tradition this year where the night before swearing in, the trainees stay with PC staff, Embassy staff, or ex-pats. Later that day, the emotions rollercoaster dipped during the session with Sylvie (the program manager of the health program). Contrary to what my counterpart had said, Sylvie said that my house was not yet completed, and that they were not sure when it would be done/hadn’t checked it off to make sure that it was up to Peace Corps standards – greeeeaattt. Additionally, she said that since it’s a new location for a PCV to be in Kembong (the previous volunteer that was in the village left in 2011 and had a different house, complete with rats, cockroaches, ants, and occasional bats and scorpions), PC had to pay the money that they would normally give the landlord to pay the first few months of rent for the PCV (some PCVs have their rent paid through March of next year), they couldn’t pay any of my rent in advance – meaning that although we’re given a monthly rent stipend, I will have to pay right away, in addition to the enormity of the cash flow that will be going out as I completely furnish my house (bed, foam mattress, gas can, gas stove, every cooking utensil, getting the locks on my house replaced, etc). Furthermore, Sylvie told me that they haven’t ever had a health volunteer like me – meaning that all the previous health volunteers (there weren’t many in the recent past) that were in Kembong were part of a now-defunct facet of the health program, where health PCVs were assigned to do NGO development work, and were assigned to a specific NGO – in my case, ETAYA. This means that the previous health PCVs were doing work exclusively with the NGO, and not really (or at all) with the health center – meaning, that they were doing grant writing activities and other programming activities on a grand scale, that enabled them to do big projects in the community (the previous health volunteer built a school from scratch) and bring lots of money into the community. Although I’m not part of this program, I’m thinking that it might be worthwhile to have a chat both with my counterpart and the NGO director (preferably both at the same time) to articulate how/why I’m a different type of volunteer that will be working primarily with the health center, and secondarily, with the NGO. Sylvie told me straight out that she was very worried that the community/stakeholders would equate me with the last volunteer, and set their expectations according to the duties/role of the previous PCV – not the most encouraging news. The evening was back up the rollercoaster, as I had my last night spent laughing, joking, and making food with my family.

Tuesday was no exception to the rollercoaster, as I had to physically wake up my family (for some reason, nothing, and I mean NOTHING, functions when it rains – students don’t go to school, businesses aren’t open, life comes to a standstill) to say goodbye (and almost more importantly, let me out of the house, since they had hidden the key to open the door…) Although leaving my family was bittersweet, I was definitely ready. From Bafia we traveled to Yaounde to cash our living allowance checks and wire the money via Express Union to ourselves. 6 hours later and several euchre games later as we waiting for the hyper-inefficient bank to process our transactions (PC had called ahead several times to warn them that 54 of us were coming in to cash checks…), we made our way back to the Case (weirdly pronounced ‘cause,’ but it’s the area where PCVs stay in Yaounde – they have Cases in most of the regions of Cameroon, except in the SW and Littoral). From there, Allely and I found Jackie and headed to her compound mansion (okay, not a ‘mansion’ per say, but definitely lots bigger than my 6-room, one-story, cement-floored house). We then spent an amazing evening spent eating microwave popcorn, Captain Crunch Berries, and Senegalese poulet yassa (chicken with an onion sauce over rice) and salad (lettuce with carrots, avocados, and peppers), and petting newly born puppies and having limited internet access, we ended the evening with hot showers/baths and ice cream sundaes – note: this is NOT real life. It was incredibly surreal for me – SO different than what I was used to, but no different than the things I have access to in the States, but despite being elated about being treated thus, it was rather unsettling at the same time. To add to the warring feelings of bliss and being unsettled, I started to notice hives starting on my tummy/legs, but didn’t think anything of it.

The next day was swearing in! Jackie’s husband drove us to the Embassy, where after checking in, we had French toast with real syrup and bacon (among other American foods, like Cheetos – aaaahhh!). From there we went to the new PC office to have our ceremony. The basic program was as follows: introductions to all the dignitaries, national anthems of the US and Cameroon, speeches by fellow stagiares in French, Fulfulde, and Pidgin, speeches by all of the ministers (Minister of Mothers and the Family, Minister of Public Health, Minister of Agriculture, Minister of Youth) and by the stand-in Ambassador, Greg, an RPCV himself, and from Jackie; awards to certain formateurs, a performance by some of the formateurs, our stage performing “Peace Train” and then the actual swearing-in itself! I am now an official Peace Corps Volunteer, and was moved by both Jackie and Greg’s speeches about our roles as PCVs, especially in Cameroon. Before/during/after the ceremony, my hives had gotten considerably worse, so I spoke with a PCMO (PC medical officer) and got some Benadryl and hydrocortisone cream. After the ceremony, we had a luncheon with one member of our host family (Mama Pauline came).

From there, we said our goodbyes to our host families and headed back on the bus to Bafia for our swearing in celebration at the same hotel as that we used for Halloween. It was dark upon arrival, and after unloading the bus, we settled into our rooms (I made sure I didn’t have the one in the bat with it this time). After dancing and hanging out (and slipping down the concrete steps, resulting in a bruise the size of an Hawaiian island on my upper thigh/butt), I decided to call it a night around 11:30, and after having two of the hotel “workers” (I put it in quotes because these guys were no more than mid-teenagers) come to my room requesting the water bucket that I had used to haul well water up the stairs to flush the toilet, I decided to have one of my other roommates lock me in the room to ensure that I was ‘safe.’ While she was doing this, she saw another Cameroonian teenager eerily following her up the stairs, and when she pointedly looked at him/told him off, he left. I left the lights on and my glasses at the ready, and as a precaution, leaned my heavy backpack against the door to discourage anyone from coming in, and popped two Benadryl for my worsening hives – now all over my body. Not 30 minutes later, I heard several knocks at the door. Thinking that if it were my other two roommates, they would have announced themselves, I wisely remained silent during the second and third knocks. After waiting, I heard someone fumbling quietly with the keyhole, and then, to my utter surprise and complete dismay, the door popped open. The assailant pushed at the door, and meeting with the resistance of my bag, stopped, and after waiting a bit, tried again several times. On the third try, my bag tipped over, and I crept silently out of bed, waiting a second, and then pushed my bag aside and flung open the door in the space of a second. I immediately began shouting at the assailant, and to his credit (and my sheer relief), he looked scared and then ran downstairs. There was no way I was going to pursue him, so I promptly started calling for help, hoping that other PCVs would hear me and come. Allely came out of her room (thank god she speaks better French than I do), and we formed a plan of action, starting with interrogating the teenage boys working the hotel. I also figured out that the assailant, a teenage boy himself, had stolen the alternate room key (the room where they were kept wasn’t locked…). In the meantime, other PCVs started to help, and I called the PC person in charge of training, and after only getting his voicemail, I called the head of language training – who did not offer any encouragement/support. However, after I got off the phone, the training manager called me back and said that he was on his way. It was then that I broke down, crying for the first time since arriving (and damn, I had meant to save my first cry for sometime during the first 3 months). Genevieve (one of my friends/roommates) and I switched hotels on PC’s dime, and slept as restfully as humanly possible given the stress of the night’s events. In the morning, we all gathered in Bafia to travel on our respective buses and after having another explosion of hives, the PCMO nurses decided it would be best for my mental and physical health (particularly given the break in) if I went to Yaounde for a few days. After saying a very bittersweet goodbye to the majority of my fellow PCVs and briefly helping the staff debrief the incident (they offered to have anyone who wasn’t comfortable going to post because of the security incident go to Yaounde), Julia and I took off for Yaounde with the other PCVs who were taking the train up to the Grand North, those going to the East and some to the Southwest.

After a stop at PCMO to take another crack at determining why the hives had spread to every part of my body (betcha think I’m attractive now, huh, Caleb? haaah…), a few of us went out for lunch (roast chicken and fries with cokes) and smoothies (fresh pineapple and mangoes with filtered water) and headed back to the Case to say more goodbyes. I’ll be staying at the Case until Monday at the earliest, and then Julia and I will head to Bamenda, and then onto post (Pauline, my counterpart, is already readying the chiefs/dignitaries of Kembong for my welcoming party). Despite the whirlwind/rollercoaster of emotions of the past few days (preparing to go to post, actually not going to post, being put on medical hold until at least Monday, having a great (although not real) time with other PCVs at the Case (it’s not the same as spending time with my stage-mates), I’m yet again SO grateful for the people in my life, my fellow PCVs, friends, and family. Without any and all of them, and the support I’ve received, there’s no doubt that I would have a much rougher time of it here – my deepest appreciation, always.

Becoming Auntie Valerie: The Last Week of PST

I know I say this practically every post, but I truly cannot believe how fast (although incredibly slow at times) this past week/PST has gone. This feeling was further heightened when we took a trip to Yaoundé on Saturday for a safety and security tour – aka all of the stagiares dividing into groups of 4-5 based on region, and going around the capital with a PCV guide showing us relevant sites so that we would feel more comfortable in our future trips there. It was interesting being in the same environment in which we had spent our first few days in Cameroon, and being back remembering the feelings/emotions/thoughts I had upon first arriving, and how those have changed so dramatically over the past 10 weeks. The trip to Yaounde was awesome, and the highlights included: Indian food; Western supermarkets with yogurt and apples and cheese, the artisan market, going to the top of the Hilton Hotel to see the view, and just generally getting to explore with other stagiares and volunteer - super fun. 

This week was one of the best weeks yet, due in no small part to the fact that all of the activities that we were doing in class were directly relevant to our future lives at post. On Tuesday, we went to the nearby maternal (primary) school to give 20-30-minute group presentations on a health topic to the students. After conducting protocol (seeing the principle and having him give an introduction to the class about our presentations), we set out to give a presentation to the 70+ students sitting on wooden benches and long plank desks in our single classroom, where the teacher sat by nursing her baby (who she then passed off to the students to take care of), and with the principal looking on (with a whip in hand, made out of the rubber of a tire). We did an exercise on the fecal-oral route, including an interactive game with the students. Definitely a good experience, but I am very glad I’m not an education volunteer. The next day, we had our final session with our health club community group at the secondary school. Allely, Ludi, and I put together handouts for the girls on the different methods of family planning, and one on prevention/transmission facts and myths about HIV/AIDS. We also answered their questions and helped them brainstorm ideas for the upcoming World AIDS Day and other activities that they could do to inform the student population about relevant health issues. 

            We also had our final tech sessions, including our post-test for health (we had to take a pre-test at the beginning of PST to determine our baseline knowledge on health issues in Cameroon, although we never did get the results back) and our medical post-test when we got our final vaccination (the flu shot). Vaccination-wise, I can now travel anywhere in the world. Apart from tech sessions, we’ve all been enjoying hanging out with everyone for our final week. I taught pretty much all of the other health stagiares to play the card game ‘euchre’ and they’ve been hooked ever since – during breaks there are usually one or two games going on. We also had a health PCT trivia night at the bar and played two rounds (roughly 15 questions per round including bonus questions). We divided up by region to play (Anglophone regions were together), and my team took second in the first game and won the second game in double overtime questions – super fun. Despite not liking aspects of having tons of activities planned all day, every day, I’m really, really going to miss having the structured routine with all of the other stagiares – not to mention how much I’m going to miss my fellow stagiares. Apart from spending time with the other PCTs, I’ve also been spending time with my family – we made three cakes from scratch together – even though I’m not a huge fan of cake, doing all the prep work and the actual baking of the cakes over the fire made them taste delicious. 

            On Thursday and Friday we had our community host/counterpart workshops. My counterpart’s name is Pauline, and she’s a 40 year-old midwife that works at the health center (she also acts as the pharmacist tech at the health center). If Pauline could be compared with an inanimate object, she would easily be a bulldozer. She’s very petite (she doesn’t even reach my shoulders), but damn if she’s not a pistol that packs a serious verbal punch. Although we have a little bit of a communication barrier, it’s not nearly as much as those with Francophone counterparts – having an Anglophone counterpart will be significantly easier for me, especially when it comes to starting projects and interacting with my community members. She is only one of 4 female counterparts (out of 18), and she’s incredibly motivated/dedicated to her job and the community. During the sessions, she was an active participant, telling others to participate, and even insisting that others take photos of her when she helped facilitate one of the sessions. She hates to be idle, and when she doesn’t have enough patients at the health center, she goes and tends her farm – by herself, mind you, as her 21 year-old daughter is away at school. She was born and raised in Kembong, and her parents hosted PCVs in their compound from 1992-1998. She still remembers their first and last names, what they did in the community, and is still hurt by the fact that the last volunteer left rather unexpectedly in 1998 without telling the community why. She said that my house is right next to the gendarmarie and brigade (police station), that water and electricity are very reliable in the community (both of which my house has), and that “there is no bad juju in the community” (what this actually means remains to be seen, but for the time being, I merely smiled and nodded in response to this statement). She mentioned that I’ll be working with the health center and the local NGO, ETAYA (literally meaning “working for the poor and needy” in the local dialect), which has been in existence for more than 10 years, and is run by a pharmacist by the name of Felix Tanyi. Right away, she had me call him, and during our 5-minute conversation, he said that he was very excited for me to arrive in Kembong and work with the NGO, and that now I am a member of his family, and this his home in Buea is now my home, too, and that I am to treat it as such – very comforting words for someone who I’ve never spoken to before in my life, let alone met.

Here are some other nuggets of information that she imparted:

-          The second that I arrive in Kembong, there will be a HUGE welcoming committee/party for my arrival, complete with the traditional chief of the village, the vice-chief, the head of the health center, NGO representatives, and community members, including a dance troupe or two that will be performing traditional dances for me (very nice, but definitely overwhelming…)

-          I will have the opportunity to explore all of the projects that the community is doing related to health in the first three months of my service, but I have a feeling that it will mostly focus on HIV/AIDS and malaria, at least from what she’s said (particularly PMTCT – prevention of mother to child transmission of HIV/AIDS). I’ll also have the opportunity to work with already-established women’s and men’s groups in the community, in addition to schools. I’ll also be assisting with the community outreach health campaigns at the health center. The health center has five staff members, including her.

-          Additionally, I don’t think the work that I had envisioned to form a partnership with TBAs (traditional birth attendants) and traditional healers will be possible, as Pauline mentioned that the government has not permitted TBAs to practice, and there are not many traditional healers in the area (this doesn’t necessarily mean that both groups aren’t practicing in the area in and around Kembong, it could mean that she just isn’t affiliated with them, doesn’t know of their practice in the community)

-          Unlike in the Grand North where malnutrition is a bigger issue, in the Grand South, obesity and hypertension are more prevalent, including in Kembong

-          Kembong specifically had to apply and prove that they were capable of hosting a PCV

-          I will be consulting with the chief of the health center – meaning that I will be sitting with him as he hears the concerns of the patients upon their arrival to the health center (the initial healthcare consultation to determine the treatment course of the patients), so this should be interesting (confidentiality/privacy laws don’t really exist here)

-          I’ll probably acquire a tutor to develop a baseline/cursory understanding of the local dialect (PC Cameroon pays for PCVs to have a tutor in the local language during the first year of service)

-          I’ll be working in the surrounding villages around Kembong, not only in the town proper

She also envisions me to do a huge project for which the community will remember me by forever, in addition to doing grant-writing activities for the community. Although I certainly don’t mind doing grant-writing activities, I’m not entirely sure what her expectations are for this grand project that she wants me to complete. Although she’s worked with volunteers before, I think that once I get to my community, we should have a talk about our mutual expectations for one another, along with the fact that apart from getting settled into the community and conducting the initial community needs assessment to figure out health issues, resources, etc, I will not be doing any real project work in the first three months (a PC rule), and just general expectations for projects to ensure that we’re on the same page. The first three months will also be a good introduction to understand her role in the community and how others perceive and work with her, so that I can gather tips/knowledge on how to effectively work with her. At the end of the session, we mutually put together a list of activities for the first three months, and it looks definitely doable and includes things that will give me an introduction to the community/health issues. Not to say that I’m not overwhelmed, in fact, I’m incredibly overwhelmed, not just for my work on future projects, but also for the move to my community, being by myself, and community integration – a tall order that will soon be my reality in less than 5 days. However, despite being overwhelmed, I’m also very excited. It’s also very comforting to know that Pauline (and Felix, too), despite being intense, really do care about my happiness and success in the community.

            The next few days are as follows: move all my things to the PC training center in Bafia; leave for Yaoundé on Monday for a talk with the country director; leave my host family’s house on Tuesday and go to the capital again to stay with an ex-pat or Embassy family; swear in on Wednesday as an official Peace Corps Volunteer; return to Bafia for party with fellow stagiares; leave for Bafia on Thursday morning to go to Bamenda; meet other cluster mates in Bamenda and stay the night; leave for Mamfe the next day and stay with cluster mates at their houses that night and set up bank account and start buying things for my house; maybe stay for another day in Mamfe before Pauline comes to Mamfe to help me buy things and move to Kembong. All in all, a busy and hectic (although very enjoyable and celebratory) next few days – I’m simultaneously nervous/overwhelmed, and very excited/ready! I’m not sure when I’ll have a chance to post next, although I’m planning on buying an internet stick as soon as possible, so in the meantime, keep me in your thoughts/prayers as I make another huge transition! Also, Cameroon is going to the World Cup - wooohooo!! 

Checking this Little Lady's Conjunctiva for Anemia at the Nutritional Screen

A be woman for Cameroon: Beaucoup du kids and The Beginning of the End of PST

The title of this blog post is in Pidgin, and is representative of my realization this week that I am really, really starting to care a lot about Cameroon – the people, the health issues, the way I as a PCV can fit into my community, etc. This realization has been a gradual process, and not at all unexpected, but really struck me when I, with the rest of the stagiares, went to the local maternal school (like primary school in the U.S.) to conduct a nutritional screening with the children there. We divided into groups of two or three and each took a station in the following sequence: asking the children their names, ages (if they knew them), how many family members they have, if they had eaten breakfast, if they were planning on eating lunch or dinner, and if they had diarrhea; taking their weight and converting it to kilograms; taking their height; taking their upper arm circumference; checking for edema (swelling) in their feet, and if necessary, hands/wrists; checking for conjunctivitis in their lower eyelids (if it’s pale pink or white, it’s a sign of anemia); and repeating the earlier questions to hopefully get some degree of accuracy. When I was sitting there on the rough-hewn school benches waiting for the next child to come through, I was struck with an overwhelming sense of rightness and comfort – the feeling of contentment to just be, and the fact that less than 10 weeks ago, I would have been analyzing and comparing the situation to what I’d previously experienced, but now I was content to just be – be in the moment, be with the children and my fellow volunteers, be comfortable in a situation that previously would’ve been far outside my comfort zone. It was a great feeling and realization, especially given the fact that one of my best friends here, Kimmi, decided to ET (early terminate) on Monday and by Wednesday, was on a flight back to the U.S. Although her and I talked extensively on our weekly Monday evening “Yaoundé roommate reconnect” chats over a beer, waking up early on Tuesday to see her off still shook me up and put me close to crying for the first time here. Thus, my realization and feelings of rightness on Wednesday were even more so special to me.

            Later that day, Layne, Spencer, Liz and I went to the English Club at the secondary school to chat with some of the same students that I had seen before when doing my presentation over a month ago. Layne and I took the younger grades, and after our introductions and feeling out the group dynamics, content with our Franglais (English-French combination), we answered question after question from the students. Some of the memorable ones were: why do Americans use so much lotion on their bodies (not sure if this was translated correctly, since from what I’ve seen, African women use just as much lotion); why do Americans like fruit so much when they come here (some fruits taste way better here than in the U.S. – case in point, my love for pamplemousse rouge (ruby red grapefruit) when I hated it in the States); can American women do karate/play any sport that a man can; why do American women have such long hair; why are we in Cameroon – what are we getting out of the deal; how do we like Cameroon so far; and can we tell them our national anthem. To the last question, Layne and I decided to sing it in front of the whole 30+ group of students. At the end of our out-of-tune and rushed rendition, we were greeted with thunderous applause from the students. We then asked them to sing their own national anthem. The whole experience turned out to be a neat cross-cultural exchange opportunity for both the students and us.   

            On Thursday, we each had to give a 20+ minute presentation in French on a relevant cultural topic for a panel of our language instructors and a group of other stagiares. My presentation on family planning methods and subsequent Jeopardy game was a huge hit (due in no small part to the fact that I had practiced for my host family the night before, which was great for correction of my pronunciation). I got a 97.5% on the presentation, and am officially done with my French requirements for the rest of PST - ideally meaning I only have Pidgin language class for the next week. I was also really proud of constructing a 20-minute presentation in French (with question and answer period, also in French) with no internet access, and barely any other resources – a great feeling of accomplishment. I also think the lack of internet access in Bokito has really made the bonds between us health volunteers stronger - we all get along well, go out to the bar for drinks or do other things to all hang out pretty much every other night, even after spending all day together, and are a generally tight-knit group of people. This type of dynamic doesn’t exist on a large scale/to the same degree among Bafia volunteers, and I’m grateful to have it with my fellow health trainees.

            Some other highlights of the week include: a tofu making demonstration; interacting with my host family (most host mother said she would cry when I left, because I’m so funny and interesting – a real compliment, given that it’s been hard to discern her emotions in the past); completing my final TDA assignment (interviewing my family about nutritional practices within the community); the realization that I’m no longer terrified of going home and struggling to communicate in French; watching French movies in French class (from Amelié to a Cameroonian video on actual cases of rape and incest – quite the spectrum); and hearing that we’ll be staying in a posh home stay setting the night before swearing in (we’re all staying with American ex-pats, current Embassy workers, or Cameroonians who work at Peace Corps); doing yoga several times in the training center with others, and hanging out with Bafia and Bokito PCTs in Bokito on Saturday.  

On Sunday, we had a Diversity Day with the rest of the trainees and language/cross-cultural formateurs (teachers) in Bafia – super fun! I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, but both the PCTs and the formateurs really pulled it out – there was tons of food from all the different regions, homemade peanut butter and papaya jelly, mac and cheese, homemade onion rings, and lots of entertainment – from solo step dancing, to agfo line dancing, and several formateur-led events. We also did our first performance of our main entertainment for our swearing in ceremony: singing and dancing to Cat Stevens’ “Peace Train.” I also led the health stagiares in a flash mob performance of the Macarena – sweet success! After, we all had a dance party before heading back to Bokito. In short, a fabulous rest of the week, although it absolutely flew by!

Exorcisms, Corruption, and Sorcery – Oh My!

          It’s incredibly hard to believe that I’m in the midst of my eighth week here, although it seems like the time has simultaneously dragged on and flown by. The days go by very slowly (you really realize how many hours there are in the day), but the weeks go by quickly. This week, we had 21 hours of language spread out over 4.5 days – lots and lots of French and Pidgin (Fulfulde for the people going to the North, Adamawa, and some going to the East). My mentor, Sam, a second year health volunteer (who’s actually about to COS – end her service) came to Bokito to help train us, instructing us on family planning and other relevant health topics, in addition to imparting nuggets of information about life as a PCV in Cameroon. We learned that women who have a child in their teenage years are considered ideal marriage partners, as the man and his family already know that the woman is fertile/capable of having healthy children. Thus, women often want to have children/won’t want their sexual partner to use protection for this exact reason. Although I’ve loved all of our PCV trainers so far, none of them have been from the Grand South (all have been either from the North or Adamawa regions), which although is nice for those going to those regions, doesn’t necessarily offer the best cultural insight into life as a health volunteer in the Grand South. Although Sam didn’t have too many cultural insights into the Grand South, she did mention that when she visited another volunteer in the West region, she went to the most famous sorcerer in the region, a crab sorcerer. The crab sorcerer uses a live crab and various other things to foretell the future, determine someone’s ailment, and offer other sage insights. His technique is to put the crab in a giant marmit (huge cooking pot – think the size that you would wash a small child in) with other sticks, roots, leaves, and anything else he deems important, and based on what the crab does (behavior, directionality, etc), the sorcerer makes his predictions – fascinating, really.

 Speaking of the Grand South, I got in touch with several of the other PCVs in my cluster – all volunteers are part of some cluster or another in their region, to support cohesion, and have a support network. My cluster is located in Mamfe, and consists of education, CED (community economic development), LIFE (can’t remember what this acronym stands for, but it’s something to do with fusing agfo and CED), and now health volunteers with Julia and I joining. All of the others just swore in in August, so we’re part of a relatively new cluster. My cluster mates usually get together at least once a week to get together and make dinner/ hang out, and it’s reassuring that I’m going into a tight-knit group that has already bonded – but this also makes it a bit intimidating, too, as I’ve noticed that although I get along with the other PCVs, nothing compares to the bonds/experiences/inside jokes shared among people of the same staj. Mamfe is about 1.5-hour trip away from Kembong in the rainy season, meaning that it’ll probably be faster during the dry season (the season that is almost upon us). Also, chances are that although I’ll be speaking Pidgin, I’ll also be learning one of the local tribal languages – if not for day to day life/work purposes, to greet the chiefs in the village (the NW and SW have huge chiefdom cultures). I’ll also have to learn more of the customs when I arrive (for example, a woman crossing her legs in front of a man in the SW or NW is the equivalent of a sexual invitation…as if the derang-y (gross/bothersome) men on market day needed any more encouragement…ha). One of the other PCVs in my cluster recently visited Kembong, and these are some soundbytes that she said about it (pretty much verbatim):
 - Kembong’s technically a town as opposed to a village. It’s pretty large and really nice and cute. It has an Express Union, which is pretty advanced.
 - My house is directly behind the Express Union (meaning that I think my house is pretty centrally located in town, since that’s where Express Union’s tend to be). There’s a little restaurant next door with good food (and she didn’t get sick after eating the food – another plus!)
 - House has one bedroom, kitchen, bathroom with a shower but no sink, and a living room/salon area. It also has a little porch. In her words, it’s really cute and the perfect size for a PCV, and in a great location, too.
 - Unfortunately, the house is completely empty (no previous PCV to sell/give me any of the furnishings), so I’ll have to completely buy everything and decorate from scratch – not that daunting of a thought. - The health center looks very modern and like they have their stuff together.
 - One of my counterparts is amazing (she’s a nurse midwife), very welcoming and the PCV thinks that the staff will treat me well. - The chiefs are also very enthusiastic to work with me as well.
 - The post itself is a bit remote (there are only three main roads to get into the village, and only one of them works in the rainy season). However, there is a weekly market, and if I need anything, the 1.5-hour trip to Mamfe (my banking city) doesn’t sound too bad.
 - Some of the cluster mates will meet Julia and I in Bamenda (the capital of the NW region, which is only a 3-4 hour trip from Mamfe) to help us move our stuff, open bank accounts, and buy things for our posts before our community hosts (different person than our counterpart, but a person in the village who was hand-selected to help facilitate our integration and getting our projects off the ground) come to pick us up and take us to post. So although moving to our posts by ourselves is still a daunting undertaking, it’s much less so knowing that we’ll have lots of help.

 After spending an awful day dealing with food poisoning on Tuesday, Wednesday was like a sweet gift, as I got a package from home, got to Skype with Caleb, we all got our swearing in pagne (fabric), from which we’ll each have individual outfits made (out of the same fabric) for our swearing in ceremony, and getting red grapefruit, my absolute favorite fruit here (which is weird, considering that I don’t even like grapefruit in the States) – all in all, an awesome day. The rest of the week passed uneventfully, but enjoyably, as we learned about HIV/AIDS, did a TDA exercise with our families regarding HIV/AIDS – I learned a lot of interesting things about what my family thinks of the disease, prevention/transmission, and people living with HIV/AIDS within the community. We also had a talk about ethics in our future dealings at post. Cameroon is widely acknowledged as one of the most corrupt countries in the world – in fact, Cameroon is the only country in the world to have held the “honor” of being named ‘most corrupt country in the world’ two years in a row. President Paul Biya’s alleged response to this title was the if he had known this would be the case, he would have bribed the necessary parties at Transparency International (the organization that names the titles), so that Cameroon wouldn’t be on the list – insert face palm here. We also had to give a 10-minute presentation on a health topic (in French) in front of the other health stagiares and language trainers in preparation for our IEP (again, no idea what this acronym means), but it’s a presentation in French (has to be at least 15-20 minutes long and follow the guidelines of an informative/good presentation) and has to be on a cross-cultural topic, intended to educate the audience on an issue. My topic is family planning in Cameroon – something I’m not super interested in, but for which I have to vocabulary necessary to complete a presentation and not sound like a complete bumbling idiot. The preliminary presentation went very well, and I’m not worried about the IEP on Thursday. 

On Saturday, after our second cross-cultural open doors (various scenarios set up for us, and we had to navigate the scenarios in French; dealing with a landlord, e.g.) to celebrate Halloween, we had a huge party with all the stagiares in Bafia. After an afternoon in search of spaghetti omelets (yep, exactly what it sounds like: cooked spaghetti mixed in with two eggs, onions, peppers, and tomatoes in an omelet) and street meat (brochettes of grilled beef or goat meat that go for 100 CFA a piece – roughly 25 cents), we headed back to the training center to use internet before heading to Joe’s house for a celebratory meal of pizza (not quite American style, but I’ll definitely take it), hamburgers, fried potatoes, and fruit salad. From there, we headed to the hotel to continue our Halloween celebrations. We rented hotel rooms and a conference room on the hotel grounds, had no curfew, and got lots of different juices and drinks for our American fete (celebration). Even without water (the water had been cut that day) and sporadic electricity, we had a great time! People got pretty creative with their costumes, especially given the lack of materials available: we had several Peace Corpses (heh we’re clearly a witty bunch), several dignitaries (I was Princess Di, and President Obama made an appearance, along with a Cameroonian chief), and many others. After calling it a night, I went up to the hotel room and out of the corner of my eye, spied something big and black flit past my line of vision: a gigantic bat was in my room. With the lights on and me whimpering like a scared child, the bat became frenzied and was flitting all over the room at high speeds. I proceeded to throw a blanket over myself and quickly unlock the door, leaving it open in the hopes that the bat would fly out, all while simultaneously whimpering and swearing. After leaving the door unlocked, the power promptly went out, leaving me in pitch black with the whereabouts of the bat unknown. Gaah! After a couple minutes, the power came back on and several hotel staff members came to investigate the room. No bat, but the bat had left us a poop present on the sheets and pillows. After explaining to the hotel staff that no, I would prefer to sleep on clean sheets, not the ones the bat pooped all over (this was after I explained what the bat was, after not knowing the word for it in French), we worked together to change the sheets: all in all, an eventful end to the day. Upon returning to my home stay, the adventure didn’t end, as Pentecostal church was in full swing at 9:30 a.m. I intelligently decided to hang out in my room, and even over the movie coming from my headphones, I heard a woman screaming, and the preacher yelling ‘stop! Get out of her body, stop!’ several times. After the women let out several more yelps – it didn’t sound like she was in danger, and they stopped after several minutes (I didn’t intervene because there were at least 25 people in attendance, and there’s no doubt in my mind that if my mother got significantly shaken/super upset about little kids throwing rocks at us, she probably wouldn’t be okay with a woman being harmed in her living room…) Needless to say, I’m reasonably certain that this was some sort of exorcism/trance, given the context and what was said before and after. The church was a full 4.5 hours long, and I can’t say I was upset when it ended/everyone cleared out of the living room.

 These next few weeks will be pretty busy with lots of wrapping up technical training (learning how to plant and prepare soy, particularly into tofu, potentially as a future income generating activity within my community), and other tech and language sessions, leading up to us heading to Yaoundé and swearing in on November 20th – yay!

My New Address (aka, my shameful plug to write me letters)

My new address: Valerie Nelson P.O. Box 617 Mamfe, Cameroon Okay friends and family, it's time to remind me that life outside my little bubble in Cameroon actually does exist by sending me a letter (or if you're really ambitious and love me very much, maybe even a package with processed foods/cheese, to name but a few of the items I'm craving...) But in all seriousness, I'd love to hear from you, whether it be a quick note to update me on how you're doing, a soundbyte update of all that's happening in the news in the US, or just to guiltily use the Lisa Frank stationary that I know you've been hoarding somewhere. Either way, mail to my post is pretty reliable, and by that I mean that I'll get your letters/packages in (at best) 3 weeks to (at worst) 3 months. Letters are a wonderful treat to receive, and I'm guessing if you're reading this, you want to hear about my adventures just as much as I want to hear about yours! It's been one hell of an adventure/rollercoaster thus far, and it's been great/cathartic to share some of it so far with you guys.