18 minutes of freestyle

I have 18 minutes left on this internet time so I decided to use it and type my thoughts as they come to me. Most of my previous entries were premeditated, this is raw emotion, here it goes:

I changed the title of this blog, becuase that is what this experience is becoming. A rollercoaster ride.

Today was emotional to say the least.

6:30am: wake up. I'm sick of the alarm tone on my phone, so I will change it soon. Once you become tired of a particlular tone, you no longer get excited about waking up.

6:45: Hop in cab with my addidas pants a white tee shirt and my tennis racket. "100 francs, tennis club" I yell. In cameroon when taking a cab, first you yell the price then the destination. If the cabbie accepts your offer and there are fewer than 7 people in a car that seats 4, then he honks his horn which means "get in where you fit in." This morning I was lucky to get a cab on my first attempt.

7:00-8:00 - Tennis with Alain. Alain is the #6 ranked player in Cameroon, he kicks my a** everytime and I pay him 1000 francs to do so. It is a great workout. I broke my strings for the 3rd time in 3 weeks, that sucks because it costs money. I then traded my racket with the ball boy whom I pay 500 francs to run around and pick up balls. I do not choose to have this ball boy, i guess my whiteness pre determines the existence of a ball boy.

8:15-9:00 - morning preparations. I take a cold shower in the dark as the power is out once again. I eat a banana and left over potato soup and coffee.

9:00-12:00- work, sort of. I go to work with the intention of making excel spreadsheets, but the power is out. This is a widespread blackout and it looks as though this will be an all-dayer. I spend my time in the office reading and finishing "the celestine prophecy" which I recommend to anyone interested in the meaning of life. I also chat with Cecile the secretary who spends her time looking out the window and thinking of nothing.

12:00-4:00pm: I go home with no intention of returning to work since the power will not be back till 6pm according to the local radio. 6pm really means 9pm. I eat more left over potato soup and start reading "brave new world" by aldous huxley. I also started reading "the sun also rises" by hemmingway. I like to start several books at the same time, eventually I settle on one. I read, then I lose focus so I turn on the radio to RFI. This is the French equivqlent to bbcnews radio. I listen to stories of decapitation in Iraq and flooding in haiti, and what have you. Same old depressing news. It is great for my french though, it is high level professional french which you dont hear in cameroon.

4:00- pat, my roommate returns from work. We go have a beer across the street. We always go to the same bar. The bartenders name is killian, he is great and he is from the anglophone region of cameroon. Nice to hear english although it is somewhat distored. Its like jamaican english.

8:40pm- NOW. I have 3 minutes left so I will leave this free flow typing session where it is. I will have my computer in two weeks which enable me to produce more premeditated writing.

Later. Wait, I'm back

Its pooring rain outside and I dont feel like getting drenched today so I purchased more time. This leaves 15 minutes of more raw emotion live from the heart of allen in the heart of africa.

Lets see...okay here we go:

Let me describe the feeling of walking down the street in bafoussam.

The act of walking down the street sounds rather simple and uneventful. But its different here. Close your eyes open to read this):

Imagine a very busy street. Imagine no sidewalks. Imagine many cars going in all sorts of directions; left, right, up, down, sideways not making an effort to avoid you. Imagine scores of kids pushing carts full of bags of rice not making an effort to avoid you. Imagine 1000's of people walking up and down this street not making an effort to avoid you. Imagine trash, dog sh*t, puddles, mud, that you must make an effort to avoid. Imagine all this, all at once. Kind of like playing "frogger" on the computer, many things to dodge. Now imagine being 4 inches taller than everyone and being the only person with your particular skin tone. Now imagine all this chaos of people staring directly at you as you pass. Imagine them yelling "BLANC!" or "WHITE!" or "NASSARA!" or "DOC" (all meaning "white"). Imagine some of them hissing and motioning for you to come over to them. Imagine THAT!

That is my 1.5 mile walk to work in a nutshell. It used to scare me, then it irritated me, now I dont even notice it. I walk tall and I walk proud. "I'm rubber you're glue, everything you say bounces off me and sticks to you"

This is what keeps me going. I am learning, i am growing more confident everyday.

Okay, 15 minutes are up. It is still pouring rain, but thats life. Potato soup awaits me. It is dark out, so people wont yell at me.

Enjoy the peace and calm your neighborhood. If it ever gets boring, come to bafoussam.

Running up volcanoes and meeting Khadafi

I did a lot of traveling last week. It all started in Nkongsamba which is located south of Bafoussam. I spent a few days there working with another volunteer who is involved with the same NGO and Micro banks that I work with. The two days spent there were helpful to say the least, as they gave me more of an idea of what I can actually do here. I’m still a little confused as far as my purpose working with these banks and in which areas I can contribute. But there is plenty to be done on the computer side of things which is where I see myself fitting in. I can create spreadsheets to track account info, stats, and other data, and then I can bring a copy of those spreadsheets to the village banks and train them on how to use them. Most of the banks are not computerized AT ALL. They may have a computer, but most of the time it does nothing but collect dust. Every transaction is done by hand; there are boxes full of cards with each person’s account info, everything by hand. It’s often extremely disorganized. I thought I was disorganized, but this is ridiculous.

This is truly the Wild West. We visited a village bank with bullet holes in the walls from a robbery that occurred earlier this year. Armed robbers aren’t the only ones after money here. Corruption is out of control. Bank presidents are stealing money. Cashiers are stealing money. Accountants are stealing money. Everyone knows about it, but nobody seems to care enough to do anything about it. They can’t afford to fire people. Corruption is a part of life in this country; it is accepted and rarely questioned. It starts at the top of the chain and it works its way all the way down to the cashier at the village bank. HOW DO YOU STOP SUCH A WIDESPREAD INFECTION? If you can answer that, come here, you are needed. I am doing what I can, but they won’t listen to me unless I slip them a couple hundred francs.

On my way home from Nkongsamba, I stopped in Buea. This is the town situated at the base of Mt. Cameroon – a 12000 ft. volcano that sprouts out of nowhere and borders the Atlantic coast. It is supposedly beautiful, but I couldn’t see it as it was engulfed in clouds the whole time I was there. I plan on climbing this mountain in December, during the dry season. There is supposedly a great three day trek you can take to the summit. In February of each year there is a world renowned RACE to the top of this volcano and back down and it is sponsored by Guinness. It is a grueling race. Apparently the descent is the most difficult part. The people who make it down alive are usually covered in blood after they tumble down half of the mountain. SOUNDS AWESOME! I have decided to take part in this race in February of 2006. This will give me time to train and familiarize myself with the course. The fastest time to date is about 5 hours, I will do it in 4. The race is followed by FREE Guinness to ease the pain of open wounds! WOOHOO.

After Buea, I visited Limbe, a beautiful coastal town situated on the other side of the volcano. Try to picture a black sandy beach, palm trees, and a 12000 ft volcano backdrop. The water was perfectly warm, and the grilled fish was delicious. If it weren’t for the prostitutes harassing us, the trip to Limbe would have been perfect. Once we told them we were volunteers who did not make money, they left us alone.

I am also planning a solo adventure through the remote countries of the Sahara. I will start in Cameroon, head north into Chad, continue heading north through the barren desert into Niger. Upon arrival in Niger, I will jump up and down screaming “I’ve made it to the middle of nowhere!” I will do this entire trip by bush taxi and whatever other means of land transportation I can find. If I have to ride of camel, so be it. It will be the cheapest, most exciting trip ever taken by man. The travel ban to Libya has been lifted, if I can fit Tripoli into my itinerary, I will. Khadafi loves me. This journey will happen sometime in March of 2005, I think. Wait till you see pictures and read about that adventure!

As you can see, I’ve been doing plenty of planning. Aside from thinking about the future, I do a lot of reading. No TV = plenty of books. There is a great network of book exchanging between volunteers in Cameroon. Hemmingway is great. I am also memorizing every single world capital. I am doing two each day using the map on my wall. Today’s capitals:
Niamey – Niger
Ouagadougou – Burkina Faso
Once I get through Africa, I will start working on Southeast Asia, which seems to be the area I know the least. The plan is to eventually travel to each one of these capitals, in alphabetical order. I think I would have to start in Abidjan, Ivory Coast, then head to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Though, I could be missing one of the A’s in there somewhere.

I am thinking of bringing back a bunch of kids to the states. Let me know if you want one or two, they are incredibly cute. They work very hard, and they never complain. Cutest darn little things you have ever seen. Most of them spend their time carrying peanuts on their head walking from bar to bar trying to make a living. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to see the States.

I may start teaching English to 6th graders next week. I don’t know how I got sucked into this one, but it sounds fun and challenging. I am also setting up computer schools in villages across the region; I just need to find funding and donors. Bill Gates, if you are reading this, send me an email.

I miss a lot of things and people still. Sometimes it gets pretty sad. I’m in this huge city surrounded by 500,000 other people and a roommate, yet I feel lonely. The best remedy is keeping busy, reading, and listening to music. Other days I feel wonderful. The rollercoaster ride continues.

I am eating potato soup for dinner. The best part of living in a great apartment in a large city in the Peace Corps is the fact that you get many visitors who cook food for you. Tonight, Jeanah is cooking potato soup, a very large pot of soup, enough to last a week.

DIINNER IS READY! GOTTA GO.

The basketball and tennis diaries

I’m back in Yaounde, the lovely capital of this lovely country. I’m at the Peace Corps office taking care of some business, then its back to lovely smelly dirty Bafoussam. Next week I travel again, pending approval from my APCD (i.e. the man in charge of knowing my whereabouts), to Nkongsamba which is located in the littoral provice between Bafoussam and Douala, pull out your maps if that means nothing to you. I will be going there on work related business, unfortunately there is no business class on the bush taxis.

The bush taxi ride to Yaounde this morning was interesting and uncomfortable as usual. I got a window seat, but I was sitting next to a very large woman who basically took over the territory on the seat intended for my body. I was also treated to a live, in van, infomercial. There was this guy along for the ride who was selling various ointments and creams meant to cure just about anything. He stood up in front of the van and screamed for about 1hr all the wonderful things his products do. “It cures bronchitis and male impotence,” he explained. At the end of his sermon people actually started waiving money in the air. 500 Francs a tube! How can you say no? I guess there were impotent men and women with bronchitis on the bush taxi this morning. My leg fell asleep at some point during the 4 hour ride, and my buttocks were very sore indeed. But now I am here, and enjoying this wonderful high speed internet with American keyboard.

Yesterday I went to work with Mr. Leopold the chicken farmer. He resides in bandjoun which is a nice village outside of Bafoussam. This village is clean and there are street lights thanks to Mr. Victor the rich man who’s mother’s funeraille I went to a few weeks back. I really enjoy working with Leopold. I find more joy working with chickens than sitting in little banks all day. I am working on a feasibility study for Leopold who is trying to expand his chicken farm to accommodate 2000 more egg layers. Its pretty fascinating seeing all those fat chickens, I like to hold them too, they are so cute. I will get pics soon, its worth seeing. Leopold also has banana plantations, peanuts, mangoes, and coffee. Needless to say, he gives me lots of goodies when I visit!

Okay. Life in Bafoussam is going well, on most days. I have integrated into the tennis club and I play about 3 days per week. I play with the #8 ranked player in Cameroon, and he is GOOD! The number one player plays there too, and he is the best tennis player I have ever personally known. He is Pro material, only problem being that he cant get a Visa to go to the States or Europe where he can get better training. Really sad, the gov here wont sponsor tennis players for visas, they only care about soccer. I also play basketball on Saturdays (as of next Saturday). I am friends with “Monaco” who played for the national team here for five years. He is 7 feet tall. Lots of fun. I think he is the only person in this city who stands out more than I do! Its nice not being the center of attention for once.

Okay, gotta go, line is getting long, volunteers are getting impatient for computer.