Return to normality

Saturday, July 03 2004
I went home last night, after a long day of training, to find my papa, mama, about 6 or seven of their “sisters” (cousins are also called “sisters”), grandparents, and some other random people sitting around in the courtyard of the compound. One of the ladies yells to me “come over here baby, and have some of this Guinness!” So I did. As I approached the group, I noticed many empty bottles and old grandma started talking to me in a slurred speech. Yes, it was a big day at the compound, many beers, and a few boxes of wine were consumed. I sat around with the family, listening to them speak. They were talking local language, so I couldn’t really understand what was going on, but I could tell that it was pretty serious. I probably spent about two hours, eating fish and manioc, listening to all these people speak in some African language, and it was great. I didn’t understand a thing, which made it all the more relaxing. My brother, Antoine, showed up a little later and filled me in on the story. Apparently, earlier in the day, they had the “levee des corps” ceremony. This translates to “the moving of the bodies”. The day before a funeral, there is a procession from the morgue to the funeral site. This procession was for the two men that died last week when Papa’s truck crashed in the forest. Papa forked out all the dough for the operation including: special clothes for the body, transportation for the bodies, fees for the morgue, food and drink for the funeral, and other expenses. All in all he spent about $2000, which is a huge sum of money in this country. Since the men were his workers, and they died on the job, it was his responsibility to cover all expenses related to the funeral. The reason for all the commotion last night was that certain members of the dead men’s families were blaming my papa for their deaths. I felt bad for him, accidents happen, and there wasn’t much he could do about this one, he wasn’t even there. We were all supposed to attend the funeral today, but we’re not going to now for fear of Papa’s safety. That’s ok, I have lots of homework anyway.

Later in the night, my little sisters tried to braid my hair. They wanted to make me look like R Kelly, but my white man hair is too slippery to braid. Today they will try the Craig David look. I’ll take pictures if it looks good.

Thursday July 1st
I’ve been spending the morning listening to music and trying to read this book that I’m going to do a presentation on at the end of training. I had trouble focusing as the music played and started bringing back memories. I had my first episode of reminiscing. I thought about friends, Boulder in the summer, skating down the hills, driving buses, Frisbee golf, concerts, baseball, keystone light, my little bro, camping, gett-CLICK-song is over, back to reality. I’m in Africa. Trying to read this book. I’ve been here a month, it feels like a year. For my friends and family in the States, I’ve barely left, yet I feel as though I boarded that plane in Denver ages ago.

I don’t know what to write about. I’m still seeing crazy things, but they just aren’t that crazy to me anymore. I still eat strange creatures, but they aren’t as strange as they used to be. I guess I’m adjusting to life in Cameroon faster than I had imagined. So that leaves the question: what do I write about? Do I write about the things that people in the States expect to hear about? The bugs, the strange food, the poverty, the rain, the heat, the beauty, the dirt? I could write about that, but that’s all normal to me now, and it would bore me to keep writing about it. My life is becoming normal again. Normal, but still very interesting and exciting. Now, it’s about the people I know, the work I do, the stuff you probably wouldn’t care to hear about. We’ll see.

Last night, was my friend Pat’s birthday. We (5 of us) went out to dinner and ate “poisson braisé.” It’s Cameroonian grilled fish, and it is delicious. We had a great time. When I got home at nine thirty my host papa acted kind of strange, and my family sort of ignored me as if they were disappointed in me for not eating at home. My sisters even asked me where I was and why I hadn’t been home for dinner, even though I told everyone three times the night before what I would be doing. Strange. This morning, everything was fine again; I guess they don’t hold grudges for very long here, or they have poor memory.

Unfortunately I didn’t really sleep last night, there was a lot of commotion outside my room, as about twenty of my papa’s workers were busy moving logs and loading them into a truck. Some sort of clandestine wood trafficking operation under the cover of darkness. That went on until three in the morning. I finally fell asleep with my headphones on.

I forgot to mention my radio appearance last week. I was selected, thanks to my brilliant French skills, to represent the PC Trainees for a local radio appearance. The only local radio station is called “Radio Femme” which translates to “Woman Radio”. Ironically, the station manager, and the radio show host were both men. Go figure. So, I showed up, with a statement prepared in the local native language (not French). The host of the show hogged the mic for most of the show, but I did get my opportunity to read my statement. I think they understood me, and I got a nice round of applause from the people at the station, and later from my host family who was listening. I really wanted to bust out some freestyle rap flows, but they didn’t give me the time, maybe next time…

The education volunteers found out where they will be posted for the two years. We small business people have to wait another 4 weeks. Everyone is really anxious, including myself, to find out where the hell we will be living for the next two years. There are rumors floating around, but they seem to change everyday. I still think I will be in the west province, but I’m not so sure anymore, things are changing everyday. The latest rumor has me living with another volunteer in some large city. It’s very very rare that Peace Corps would place two volunteers together, unless they are married. The volunteer in question happens to be my best friend in training, so it would work out. We would have a large house/apartment so I would still get my personal space. Of course, this may not even happen, but its fun to think about.

Tuesday, July 29th
Anteater tastes better than porcupine. It is really delicious, the best part being the tail. I invited my friend Jen over for lunch last Sunday, and she enjoyed it just as much as me. She is probably the only trainee that will try just about anything that appears on her plate, so I figured she’d be a good choice to invite. I think I’m going to invite people over more often. When there are guests, there is beer, wine, an abundance of food, and just a great time. Plus, it’s fun to share all the craziness with someone else who understands. That same night, I went to Jen’s house for dinner where we ate grilled fish, fried plantains, and lots of fruit, all this with our hands, mmmm. The grilled fish is amazing; probably thanks to all the MSG they sprinkle on it. Its crazy to see how different two families can be, just like in the States. I guess I imagined all Cameroonian families would be very similar in their general habits, but that is not true! At Jen’s house we played UNO with her 6 little sisters, at my house we drank Guinness with my momma, papa, and various aunts and uncles. I think it would have been smarter to start at Jen’s house playing UNO, then finishing the night at my house with Guinness. Oh well! It was still a very enjoyable Sunday.

Last night, we listened to Celine Dion. My little 8 year brother knows every word to just about every song, and he sings with confidence and pride. It is absolutely hilarious. Then we listened to Bryan Adams; remember him from the early 90’s? Well, he’s still topping charts in Cameroon, at least at my house.

Training goes on. Same old, same old…

********************************************************************
Happy Independence Day! We are having a Bar-B-Cue on Sunday Afternoon. There will actually be hamburgers, something I haven’t seen in a month. There will also be music and cheap Cameroonian beer. All this for $5 per person. You are all invited.

Okay, this blog entry was written over a five day span, sorry for any confusion regarding references to time. “Yesterday” may be referring to last Sunday, “tomorrow” may have already happened.