Raining Cats and Dogs

Rainy season is in full force here in Meiganga and life in every form has erupted. Mangoes and avocados rain from the heavens. It is so fun to tell Cameroonians how much a mango is in the states, how it is such a treat. I make mango salsa almost daily and have mastered tortillas from scratch. I found myself mid mango the other day wondering, how many is too many? It is almost the end of the school year and the beginning of real work in the fields. My own mini-champ is growing beautifully. I can now say that everything tastes better homegrown. I just finished the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver and urge all to follow. In a year and a half I will meet you all in the Appalachian Mountains eating your locally raised turkey.

At the end of March I met up with all my stage mates in Maroua for a weeklong conference. It was a delight, just to be on vacation and see all the people I came to consider family during my first few months here. It was nice to share war wounds and gain perspective on things. I also picked up the new love of my life, Moses. Yes, some would consider him spiritual guru, but my version is much hairier and the only miracle he performs is pooping in his litter box. But really, my new addition is great company at night and loves to cuddle. I couldn’t be happier with him.

I have kept busy with work activities. Spend two days at the hospital, teach computers at the women’s center and meet with community groups. My work helping to organize the community groups has now come to depend on the level of commitment of the members themselves. It has been the most challenging work so far; there is no quick fix, no map, and no answer. Sometimes I wonder if I don’t just waste people’s time here. I am trying to plan a new project for the prevention of mother to infant transmission of AIDS and general nutrition. I am putting together a crack team of experts, so hopefully I can just sit back and relax and let them do all the real work. I mean that’s what sustainable development is right?

Today I celebrated Private Industries Day and all I got was a fully belly and a sunburn. It was actually a lot more fun than I expected of typical Cameroon fetes. There is always a general formula for national holidays: march in front of all the local authorities, wear some matching outfit and then eat and be merry. I have avoided marching in the past few fetes, as everyday tends to feel like a parade in front of the good people of Meiganga. Today I marched with the Lutheran Hospital in a t-shirt that said, “We treat, Jesus heals”. Gotta love it. After waiting in the sun for an hour and taking several pictures with strangers, I successfully marched without falling in front of hundreds. The Cameroonians are very serious about keeping in straight lines and marching in time. One of the nurses’ overly exuberant husband kept barking orders on how, when and who to salute during our time in the sun. Although it is usually a serious affair, another nurse managed to bring a wheelchair, mask and blood pressure machine. So we reenacted a mock procedure as we marched by the grandstands. I thought it was hilarious. It seemed to be a common pattern though; the radio station had microphones, bakery had loaves, cattle association had bull horns and raw meat (swarming with flies of course), the bars brought bottles of beer and shook them up and the moto drivers sped through massive crowds (thank god the hospital staff was there!). Festivities continued at a local bar where we all ate endless amounts of fish, beef, bread, batons of manioc and beer. After hours in the sun and beer-free for several weeks, I had to literally peel myself from the festivities and go home to lather myself in lotion. All in all, it was a grand day.

After much pressure and demand, I have agreed to the unthinkable. No, not shark diving or the Atkins diet, but to have my hair braided with synthetic extensions. Basically a pale Beyonce with less curves and more attitude. I keep thinking of Monica from Friends when she gets her braids caught somewhere inconvenient. All the girls I teach and my girlfriends have begged me and if I don’t do it in my twenties, when will I ever do it? It is required by schools and general standards of beauty to braid hair with multi-colored, textured extensions in Cameroon. It is a true form of self-expression and as I have said before, it can change the entire look of a woman. Not to fret, pictures will be taken. I am a little worried about pain and all my hair falling out though.

So one of the great things in Cameroon is that you can order custom made wooden furniture for an extremely affordable price. The other day I was walking home a new set of items (desk, screen door, chair and shelves). I had been waiting at the shop to have the guys lacquer the goods and find someone to pus-pus (wheelbarrow) it home. Halfway home, the dark violet clouds ominously float in and it begins to pour. At first a light sprinkle and in what seemed like seconds a raging storm. The problem was that there was nowhere to shelter this giant pile of stuff, so we blazed on through. All of a sudden I hear a crack and every single items has fallen out of the pus pus and into the mud. I forfeit my umbrella and help the guy pick up the scattered pieces. Immediately I see that the screens on the door have been sliced and he starts to stack items on top of each other in a completely disorganized and leaning tower of Pisa manner. So I pick of several pieces, but we are a few blocks from home and I have taken way too much and can barely lug them a few feet. I look around for help and not a soul can be found. At this point the rain is so strong I can barely see the guy with the pus pus in front of me and he has no idea where he is going. My thoughts are to just bulldoze through it all, but he keeps stopping at every door on the street and barely speaks French. After what seemed like hours we made it to my front door and we are soaked. In the end nothing was broken terribly and not badly damaged since the pieces were partially lacquered. It made the furniture all the more worth it!

Well, that’s it for this installment. Evenings are pretty slow here in Meiganga so I think of you all nightly. I miss you and hope none of you went to Mexico lately. Every now and then I catch the French news at a friends house. Lots of people wearing masks and not just in China.

I continue to get packages and thank my lucky stars for every morsel, thanks so much. Keep on with the random bits of news and Americana. I miss it more than ever.

Much love,
Al