Monday, August 30, 2004

Photos Part Deux

So, here qre the new photos. I may have to do this in two days since the connection is so slow, we'll see what happens. I recommend opening a new browser so you can view the photos and read the descripition at the same time from this blog. The numbers I list should correspond to the labels of each photo.

Open this site in a separate browser: http://photos.yahoo.com/allenbanick3

The descriptions:
I just realized I may have ommited some of the photos described here, just pay attention to the numbers...

364: The view inside a bush taxi, usually its a lot more crowded than this.
369: Pat (my roommate/friend/coworker in Bafoussam), Pats brothers, and me at the talent show.
382: Cameroonian singers at the talent show.
391: Cameroonian karate master in action!
400: Dancers
409: Stan (aged 79 and still livin like a 24 yr old) performs poetry at the talent show.
438: more beautiful sunsets at training
463: Host Papa, Diane wearing my bike helmet
465: One of the many puppies, this one can score goals too.
4 70: Me and host fam on our way to family appreciation dinner, my first occasion to wear the Booboo. You will see this booboo often. I really feel like I belong in a booboo.
487: Some cousin hiding from me
488: Little Alex after I gave him matchbox cars, he was sooo excited to have these toys. He stared at them for two days before he had the guts to actually play with them! I also gave him that hat.
489-493: Swearing-in ceremony photos. This was the culmination of training, aaaah at last.
508: This is a bad pic of me giving my speech in Ewondo. The person who took this didnt know how to use the zoom...It doesnt really show the crowd of people I was talking too, but you get the point.
515: Raise your right hand and repeat after me...
521: Me with host papa and mama at swearing in, our last day together.
524: Pat, Jen, host fams
533: A final dinner with all my friends at the White House in Yaounde, we left for post the following day...
535: The ride to Bafoussam, we rented a bush taxi all to ourselves, talk about comfort!
537: Some views from one of the west province villages. So green, so nice. This is the best province in Cameroon, now you know why!
538: This is the funeraille I talked about. Look at all the fancy material people wore.
539: Me, Pat, Leopold the chicken farmer, and the Artists, at the funeraille.
542: Guns were fired in celebration..BAAM!
544: Lots of dancing
545: Pat and I joined the dancing, can you see the only white guy in the crowd?
546: The woman in front of the line is holding a pic of the deceased woman.
548-551: People and stuff
556-561: Drumming and dancing
566: The kings who were present at the ceremony. If you want to talk to them, you have to bow, and clap your hands together 5 times or something. Once I figure it out, I will talk to them.
571: Even the kids came out!
573: The banquet dinner
575-576: Shots of my apartment living room. This place is a source of jealousy on behalf of many volunteers...the tile work is nice, so is the fireplace, so useful on the equator! Actually it can be quite cold, if we find some wood...or some trash maybe we'll try it out.
577-581: Balcony views of the apartment. These were taken on a sunday afternoon, there wasnt much traffic. But you get an idea of the stuff we spend hours watching from the balcony. Today I saw a man with a single small punpkin on his head. It was so strange, and funny.

That is all I have to share for now. I hope these photos help you understand all the crazyness that is Cameroon. I need to go now, I will update soon.

If you are thinking of visiting me, think no more, just do it!

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

A funeral, Cameroon style

I know its been a very long time since I’ve updated this blog. I had written a very long, beautiful piece of work, unfortunately the floppy disk I saved it on doesn’t work anymore. That happens a lot here, it must be the humidity. It’s really a shame, what I had written can never be replicated :(

I am sitting in the village bank I work with, using the computer in hopes it wont crash and there wont be a power outage. If all goes according to plan, I will save this onto a disk and bring it to the internet café tonight and cut and paste it to my blog.

Yesterday was simply a fascinating day. I attended the « funeraille » of the mother of the richest man in Cameroon. I wore my African clothing, called a booboo. A booboo is basically a long robe a some matching pants made out of fancy African material. My host family had one made for me, and it is probably the most comfortable article of clothing I have ever owned. Oddly enough, all the African men at the event were wearing Western style suits. We toured the rich mans compound, which includes individual houses for each of his 30 wives. Yes, he has 30 wives, some say he has 50.

Pat and I showed up around 11 am only to see that the ceremony had already begun. This was the large public portion of the event which includes dancing, prayers, speeches, etc. There were about 3000 people in attendance including several kings, diplomats, and the rich man himself. When we got there, we were quickly intercepted by a large, bouncer like man in a black suit who told us he would escort us to our seats. We followed him to the large covered area of seating, walking right in front of all 3000 of these people. Most of them were probably wondering what this white guy was doing in a booboo. Each section of seating was labeled. Somehow, Pat and I were placed in the «Elite» section directly behind the rich man. Why we were placed there, I don’t know. Maybe we looked more important than we are. The religious portion of the ceremony lasted about 2 hours and there was a lot of sitting down and standing up and sitting down and standing up ; I’m guessing it was a catholic event. After that, there was dancing. Lots of dancing. Ceremonial African dancing, and drumming. It was all amazing to see. Stay tuned for photos. This was the cultural stuff I had imagined seeing before I came. Everyone was wearing a different type of material which represented the group, or village from which they came. All of the rich man’s immediate family had a special material, and there were many many family members. When he has at least thirty wives, there’s no telling how many kids he’s got. Leopold, the man who invited us, made the comment «it’s impossible to distinguish his wives from his daughters, because some of his wives are younger than many of his daughters.» Wow.

Pat and I were among the 400 or so priveledged people to be invited to the lunch/dinner feast held inside the banquet hall of the palace. We ate like kings, and drank french wine and champagne. We were the only white people in the place. We were sitting with two artists, a singer/songwriter and a poet. The singer had recorded a song dedicated to the woman who died. He got to perform it in front of the crowd and he gave a copy to the Rich man himself. Apparently, it’s not easy being an artist in this country, because the singer later told me that he had been waiting 9 years for this moment. He also said that this was all made possible by our (Pat’s and my) white skin. Since he was with us, he was able to get in the banquet, and since he was sitting with us, everyone assumed that he was a legitimate artist. This is in his own words. It’s very strange how people perceive westerners here. They give us this label of importance, and affluence. They are often so honored when we just say hello to them. Sometimes it’s flattering, but usually it makes me feel akward, I just want to say «hey buddy, you’re just as important as me.» Then again, a lot of people in the streets yell at me and call me “cracker.” Maybe it all balances out in the end.

I’m at the cyber café now, and I found one that may enable me to upload my pictures, and there’s even a CD burner that I can use to save everything to! Technology is coming to Cameroon...Now, I just have to wait for that laptop which should be here next month. Thats when this blog will start to get interesting, cause I’ll have the time to write more thorough entries from the comfy confines of my apartment.

Until next time...

Thursday, August 12, 2004

My new home

Not much internet time left, so this will be short.

I live in a beautiful apartment surrounded by crazyness. The apartment is large, well furnished, basically above and beyond your "typical" peace corps home. then there's bafoussam. I don't think this town is for everyone. It's big, dirty, agressive, and somehow I really like it. I could write a book about the things I see from the balcony of my apartment.

Bafoussam is the third largest city in Cameroon and home to the Bamilike people who are known for their entrpreneurial ways. EVERYTHING is for sale here. You could sit on my balcony, or in a bar, and eventually someone will come up to you with the item you are looking for, balanced on their head. I'm talking EVERYTHING. Its pretty fascinating to see. They have really cool clothes here too. The kind of clothes that would sell really well in the states at one of those vintage clothing stores. It would be a great business really. Buy the stuff dirt cheap here, sell it in the states for a fortune where it is considered "classic" and "retro". I didnt think I woul leave Cameroon looking "hip", but I just may.

There are some "fous" or "crazies" in this town. There's one guy who strolls around buck naked with a big grin on his face. I see him everywhere, unfortunately.

I had lunch with the "sheriff", that's what he calls himself. he's head of the police in town. He's got a big bushy mustache, and he loves Westerns.

The countryside outside of Bafoussam is absolutely gorgeous. Its very mountainous, lush, green, and peaceful. I have some friends posted in villages in the area, they will defnately be my escape from the madness of the city. Its really two different worlds.

The food is plentiful. This region is the bread basket for all of Cameroon. So many fruits, vegetables, fish, everything. I'm learning how to cook, which is good. I made great fish the other night.

Despite the excitement here, I still get homesick from time to time. I miss a lot of people, family and friends.

I start volunteering on monday at the NGO I'm working with. I'm very excited to learn more about the work I will be doing. I will keep you posted

OK, gotta go. Until next time...

Saturday, August 07, 2004

Moving on...

I don't know how much time I'm going to have to type this blog entry as I sit in the Peace Corps office waiting for the vans to pick us up and head to my new apartment in Bafoussam...

Before I talk about me, let me respond to your excellent (as always) commentary:

Dad: Thanks for the Hilton invite, you won't be dissappointed. The best part is the all you can eat breakfast buffet. I went there this morning ate like a champ and puked it all up. Yup, I'm in Yaounde, I get sick, thats how it goes. Don't worry though, it's not the foods fault. Read more about this later...

Mel: Thanks for the support, I love you too, say hi to the fam for me.

Mike: Yeah, we'll wash the dirty volunteers, some of them need it too! I wish I had more time to follow the elections more. All the blogs out there, so little time...aaaaaah. I really miss having 24/7 high speed internet; that and ice cubes, I REALLY miss ice cubes.

E: It sounds like you've been reading Adbusters!! Those were some strong words from a strong woman. Send me an email, we'll chat about the subject more deeply.

Grandpa B: I would love to share my blog with the elementary school in Albuquerque. There is actually a Peace Corps program called "World Wise Schools" where the Peace Corps hooks up volunteers with elementary school teachers and their classes to share the Peace Corps experience. If you send me this teachers info and the name of the school, I may be able to set it up with them. Otherwise, they can just use the blog anyways...Let me know. Say hi to grandma for me.

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Okay, back to the crazyness.

I'm in Yaounde, waiting for the bus to Bafoussam where I will live for the next two years.

This morning I took part in my biggest adventure yet in Cameroon. My friends Tiffany and Nick and I decided to jog from the Peace Corps Office, through the crazyness of yaounde, all the way to the Hilton hotel where we would reward ourselves with an all you can eat buffet breakfast.

We woke up before dawn and headed out around 5:45 am. The streets were still dark and fairly empty. We knew the general direction of the Hilton, but we had not planned out any route for getting there. We ran, and we ran. Down busy streets, past yelling people. We ran accross sketchy wooden bridges, we ran along railroad tracks. All along the way, Cameroonians were helping to point us in the right direction. They were very friendly and very encouraging. I think they were amazed to see these three white people running through the crazy city at the crack of dawn, with no sense of direction. We were told to go this way, we were told to go that way. Over the hills, across the busy intersections, through the round abouts, down the dirt paths, over the trash piles, past the shouting street vendors, dodging cars, trucks, buses and even trains.

50 minutes and 5 miles later the Hilton appeared behind some tall buildings. Getting there was the biggest accomplishment to date for me in Cameroon. I think it was for all three of us. When I first got to this city, I was scared to death, its big, its fast, its intimidating, but this morning I conquered this city, and now I have no fear. It was a very symbolic moment. The run through the city really represented all that I have been through so far in this country. Ups and downs, friendly people, accomplishments...

Then I ate breakfast buffet at the Hilton, then I threw up. The buffet was delicious though, really delicious. My throwing up was a result of: exhaustion, lack of sleep the night before, and eating too much too quickly. I'm o.k. now. I ate a full meal since then and managed to keep it in my stomach. Talk about highs and lows: one minute I'm celebrating at the finish line of a fantastic crazy marathon, eating an omelette and smoked salmon, the next minute I'm leaning over a toilet bowl watching my rewards swimming in the toilet bowl. Aaaaah, Peace Corps. What else is there to say.

Oh yeah, I swore in as a Peace Corps Volunteer on thursday. The swearing in ceremony was held in our training town. Amongst those in attendance: Many current volunteers, myself, the homestay families, and many "important people" from the American embassy, the Cameroonian ministry of education, and all the local authorities.

As I mentioned previously, I was selected to give a speech in Ewondo, the local language. I stayed up half the previous night practicing this speech getting the pronounciation down to a tee. To my, and every Ewondo speaking person in the crowd's surprise, I delivered a smooth, short, sweet speech. The crowd loved it, and they cheered after every sentence. It was a pretty cool feeling being up there and being cheered on by all these African people speaking in a language I have never really spoken before. It's funny, after the ceremony, I was approached by a bunch of people who, thinking I was fluent in Ewondo, starting talking to me in Ewondo, and I had absolutely no idea what they were saying. I only know my speech, and I know how to say "hello", "good morning", "good night", "fish", "chicken", "child", "eat", "white", "native", and "I'm tired."

After the ceremony, I gave about five interviews to various television, radio, newspaper reporters. My name must be all over this country now.

I said goodbye to my host family yesterday. It was harder than I thought it would be saying good bye. I guess when there are 12 people to say good bye to, your bound to be somewhat saddened. Not to worry, I will visit them at X-mas, and they want my Dad to meet them when he comes. Hey Dad! They make great food, it will be fun.

Ok, what else...Oh yeah. I've taken a lot more pictures since the last posting, but I'm still trying to find a way to get them posted. The wait will be worth it when I finally ge them posted, so hang in there.

Ok, its off to Bafoussam. I live near many internet cafes, so I should be able to keep this sucker updated more often. Next week I relax a little and get to know my new hometown. A week from monday, I start what I came to this country to do: volunteering. Sometimes, I forget why I'm here. Once I start working, it will all make sense again.

Until next time...Beum beu mos ntangen (Ewondo for, "have a nice day white guy")