angel at a crosswalk

Last week I went to Willaimsburg, Virginia to visit the old colonial town with some family. We attended a Sunday service at a gorgeous white-columned Methodist church, where elderly couples wore their Sunday best, and kind ladies wore their hats and pearls. Just after we filed out and were about the cross the street, I spotted this sign at the intersection. The angels have got our backs.

The church was also right across from the College of William and Mary. The weather was 90 degrees plus with sweltering heat. So... despite that we had to explore a bit of their campus before leaving. Below is their new campus.

And we paid a visit to our old pal Thomas Jefferson. The bronze statue that was a gift from the University of Virginia. We all wanted to be like him. (Being bronzed is in, haha.)

The colonial town was picturesque, with occasional reenactments of speeches, of lovers separated because of the war and slaves dreaming of freedom. Men "fenced it out" to take care of their problems, women wore bonnets with full-length dresses. They shot cannons. They read the Declaration of Independence.

The entire district was renovated and restored with buildlings dating from the 1700s, funded by the Rockefellers. There were apothecary shops, hat shops, metal working and a historic insane asylum, now a museum. It is pretty cool to see the evolution of this country over the past few hundred years.

summer time

it's the summer.

there are many things to be thankful for.

je suis reconnaissante.

(this feeling, reflected from the water)

ladies in the kitchen

me, Ada, Isaora, Mackenzie

I continue to blog because it's the first month being back from Cameroon and honestly... I miss it. I get into a nostalgic mood and then I stay up and blog about it. Memories are sinking in and the realization that I'm back in the States seems unreal (I guess you can call it reverse culture shock). If you've ever stayed in a different country for an extended period, or studied abroad, you know what I mean. C'est normal. This might be the reason for my recent bout of insomnia, but it's no biggie because my brain will soon revert back to 'America.' So...

In mid-December I tagged along with my friend Mackenzie (a fellow Fulbrighter) to visit her extended host family in Douala. It is an extremely hot coastal city and has one of the biggest ports in Cameroon. We stayed at Ada's house and during those few days there she was the most excellent host, cooking for us, making sure we met all of her friends and taking us out and about. It was certainly a fun, adventurous and crazy few days.

Before I went, people kept saying that it is so hot in Douala that people slept outside. Well it was true. The air was so thick with heat that after taking a shower, I was drenched right back in sweat again. You can't escape it... Man it was hot there! I compare the current heat wave in Chicago to the weather in Douala. haha.

Anyways, four ladies: me, Mackenzie, our friend Isaora and Ada were having some fun in the kitchen. We were watching Ada cook and she was explaining what she was doing while stirring a heavy pot of pasty flour. Her instructions were all in French (and I was appalled when I realized the deterioration of my French)! Coming from the Anglophone region, I had forgotten a lot and strained to understand. After she cooked, we all sat outside in her backyard under the shade of a giant tree and enjoyed our meal in the coolness of the shade. I will just upload a series of pictures.

The end result: A delicious-okra-filled-slippery-finger-lickin' meal.

the good earth

AgroFest December 2010, Bafut

While I was in Cameroon this past December, I went to an AgroFestival. It's an annual event that takes place across the country, essentially farmers show their best produce at large festivalsand prizes are given to the farmers with the biggest, freshest, most interesting produce. Prizes included money, buckets, hoes, and other farm equipment. Most farmers (who are mostly women) do their work ALL by hand. It's really amazing. One AgroFest was held in Bafut, about 40 minutes away from where I lived. Cocoyams are shown above.

This was the ginger aisle and it came in different varieties. This type looks very wormlike...

There were beautiful displays of corn too. Endless stalks of corn grow in the NW region. Wherever people have space, they will plant a patch of corn, even in front of a one-room red brick house right next to the road, there will be a patch of corn outside the door, planted in their mounds, as commonplace as grassy front yards in the US. It's no surprise that corn is a staple food here.

These are spices. I don't know the official names, but the one on the right (skewered on a stick) is called "achu spice." I mentioned what achu was on a previous blog, but it's a traditional NW dish, and these spices are roasted and then ground up with a stone to add flavor to achu. It's very aromatic.

Melons that remind me of starfruit...

The land in the Northwest Region is as beautiful as it is fertile. Everywhere I turn, especially during the rainy season, the fields are a bright rich green. People have a deeper connection to the soil. They depend on it, it is their life source. People really work the land; they use their hands, they bend their backs, they sweat in the hot sun, and then carry their crops and spades home. When have I ever worked like that for my food?

It feels almost unreal when a woman unearths a yam from the ground from her farm, hands it to me all caked in soil and says, "Here, take this home with you!" Haha, maybe it's because I'm from Chicago where farmland doesn't exist or because I was never an avid gardener but I felt such a pure connection to the soil in Cameroon. All this musing about farming/land reminded me of the book, The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck. If I were subjected to grueling, back-breaking work and reliant on the rains and soil for my well-being, how would I fare?

look what the mouse did!

The pesky mouse, that Jacqueline and I "lovingly" nicknamed Mickey, ate my chocolate! what the..!? It got through the plastic wrapping and the foil, and probably sulked back to its hole with a stomach ache. Mouse ruined my candy! Oh well. I got over it. All just part of a normal day.

now these are the types of roads a 4x4 would love

university games

Forget cheerleaders. We've got 10 drummers, 30 dancers and one unstoppable Fans Club to cheer on the sports. Members of the Fans Club were at the University Games in Dschang to energize their athletes, catch the attention of the judges and also to put on a good show for the spectators. Every school that participated sent their own Club, and they were on the field much longer than any athlete. They spent hours everyday (during that week) on their feet, swaying to the rhythm, beating drums and performing quick, fast-footed cultural dances. They ran around, energized the crowd and then paraded around the entire campus like it was Mardi Gras.

2011 was the first year that the students represented the University of Bamenda and participated in the annual University Games in Dschang. I was filled with pride, ownership (I'm with these guys, this is my school) and a sense of je-ne-sais-quoi... that burning inside your stomach when you witness someone fighting so hard and waiting so long, and they finally get it. This was it. Our school became a university, and we finally had a team. We were all in good spirits, and completely fraught with anticipation... (or maybe, it really was just me, haha). Regardless, nothing like sports can bring people together like that. We even took home two bronze medals in judo. Bravo.

"Our fulfillment is not in our isolated human grandeur, but in our intimacy with the larger earth community, for this is also the larger dimension of our being..."

- Thomas Berry

rice and stew

My friend Veronique loves to cook for other people, lucky me! She was making a "stew" sauce that's eaten with rice, and it's basically a blend of chopped vegetables, tomato paste, minced tomatoes and green spices (basil, parsley, celery), garlic and hot peppers mashed into a thick paste. Also, we can't forget the Maggi cubes that flavor everything.

This is the grinding stone. Vero's cousin was helping to make the paste and a neighbor came to help make the other dishes. The countless people I've seen cooking here make the preparation seem effortless... though it might actually take several hours or half the morning. The toil and pace that goes into food is fascinating, and the slow food movement is catching on because people are reverting back to the old, slower-paced methods of cooking and eating.

Plantains, boiled or fried, are delicious. I've never eaten so many plantains in my life. They are a staple food in the Northwest Region. When they're boiled, they are very starchy and heavy, and fill up the stomach very quickly. It's a good thing I love carbs. The process involved peeling, slicing, smoothing out the outer layer, rinsing them in water and then boiling.

The end result..... rice, plantains and vegetable stew.

My friend with one of the biggest hearts ever, Vero.

There isn't a fancy name to the dish, just "rice and stew." This case was with plantains but on the streets, you can order a bowl of "rice and stew" for around 400 cfa (under a dollar) and a typical bowl would come with a piece of meat. The stew would be a thick red tomato sauce without other vegetables. / Thanks team! The meal was delicious and dude, I miss the food.

A Cake Story

(This post is dedicated to my grandma, who just celebrated her 83^rd birthday.)

So, we bought this cake for my grandma’s birthday dinner. It was a lovely, colorful, sprinkle-y ice cream cake. It was delicious, but I won’t say where it’s from and you’ll see why. My older cousins are at that point where they’re all having kids, so all the toddlers LOVED the tiny fake plastic balloons that bedecked the heavily frosted surface. My grandma was beaming from being surrounded by so many great grandkids (which is suk in Cantonese).

It was very lucky that all the babies and my paw paw cannot read English because “grandma” was misspelled on the cake. Instead, it said “Gradma.” Really?? In my mind, people could have rioted during the “Happy Birthday” song. It was hilarious. But actually, no one really noticed... the fancy cake decorations/candles stole the show.

According to my mother, anything could have been written on the cake, in French, and it wouldn’t have really mattered. But, apparently the one downfall was the fact that the writing was done in blue which is associated with sadness, death and mourning instead of lucky, festive red. Otherwise, it was pretty great, yea?

As her gift, I got my paw paw a mural of three villagers hand-painted on fabric from Cameroon that I bought from the Extreme North Region, in Maroua.

Oh family and gigantic dinner gatherings… how I’ve missed you. People have asked me, "Are you going back to Africa soon?" To be honest I have no idea, I would love to go visit another country in the near future but for now I'm relishing in the fact that I'm home. A year can feel really long without the birthdays, the family traditions, the holiday celebrations. Anyways, I've been back for two weeks now. I wouldn't want to miss moments like these for anything. To a birthdays that make everyone smile, and many more.

Happy Birthday g-r-a-n-d-m-a!

saying goodbye is never easy

Kribi beaches

There's a place called Kribi, in the South region of Cameroon where "all your dreams come true." Literally. Just ask Meera and Kiran, my fellow ETA and her younger sister and they'll vouch for me.

There were white-sand beaches, perfect waves, fresh shrimp to eat caught from Lobe Falls, a waterfall that drops directly into the ocean, which was a 10-minute walk from our hotel.

It was the kind of vacation where one lies on the beach all day with a dictionary-sized beach read, sans probleme. It was not crowded at all because while it was a touristy area, there were minimal tourists during the off season. There area was isolated and a good distance from the center of town. There was plenty of sun and 'twas the perfect way to wrap up our academic year, to celebrate our success (we survived!) and in a way, to commemorate our final region visited in Cameroon (we visited all ten!).

There's a bustling fish market in town where you can choose your own fish for grilling, and there were plenty of 'fish mommies' waving you come sit at an empty table in their area. We stuffed ourselves with grilled fish and gambas (gigantic, fresh prawns) complete with red piment, green sauce, mayonnaise, baton de manioc, plantain chips, frites and 'fruit de pain' chips. The market, and eating/grilling area are side-by-side on a dock overlooking the water. [Insert a very satisfied sigh here.]

I'm back!!!

hey-o! I'm back in Chicago. Home sweet, sweet home.

Where did all the posts go from April until now? They're yet to be written. (Kind of like a reverse, Benjamin Button sort of thing.)

I will keep on updating, if not more now because I am back. There is more steady internet and plus it will be a way for me to reflect and remember that I experienced for the past 9 months. Wow. Let me just say it once more: I made it back safely!

But right now, I feel like home has never been sweeter. It's not like I haven't enjoyed my time in Cameroon, but it was the first time I've been away overseas for so long. I appreciated the wave of familiarity when I saw the Chicago skyline. I basked in luxurious little comforts like A/C that was too cold, sticking leftovers in the fridge and of course seeing family & friends.... the latter making my home-coming so awesome. Of course, other things helped like taking a piping hot shower, opening my laptop to wi-fi, sleeping in my own bed, fruit smoothies, and driving on a 4-lane paved road. Home, how I've missed you!

My family was glad I was back, well, my dad sure was since he kinda blew the cover of a 'surprise' welcome back party on Sunday.

Coming back from the airport:

Dad: What about the party?

Mom: SSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

hahaha. At least I knew enough to try and look nice by wearing my African-print dress that I got made in Yaounde. Thanks!

This weekend I was one of the happiest girls alive. And when my stomach could hold some substantial food again...

...pho.

the circle of life

Here, death is a celebration. There is a "cry-die" where people openly cry and mourn for a day, but then the rest is a celebration, complete with singing, dancing, drumming, eating and drinking. In the Northwest, gunshots are fired into the air to signify that someone has passed away. The celebration is a way for family and friends to move on... almost like, "What is the point in being sad?" There is a better place in the afterlife...

and i'm back

Hey all back home and from all different places. Thanks for all the care and concern. Cameroon has not been affected by any violence or unrest, and it remains peaceful here.

* * *

Second semester here at school has been on full force, and that is partly why I have been away from this blog. My apologies. I've started English courses for technical students from the Higher Technical Teacher's Training College (HTTTC). Last semester, I assisted in English courses for the general teaching school, the Higher Teacher's Training College (HTTC), most of whom were Anglophone students who study English literature. So nowadays I have English courses with 2 different colleges on the same campus and my time is split between Francophone and Anglophone students.

I enjoy these technical English courses a lot more since Francophone students make up the majority of the technical school and they desire to learn English. They study Economics, Management, Computer Science, Accounting, Civil, Electrical & Power Engineering etc. They are committed, they want to soak up every aspect, and they pour over the grammar like crazy. They want to learn how to master English, how to use English in their field and expand on their vocabulary. They are detail-oriented and succinct by nature. On the other hand, teaching grammar to English Lit majors is received with a different attitude, and it's slightly more tough. It's two different ways of teaching too, like apples and oranges. Ah well so it is :) I wanted to work with this niche of francophone students from the start, and the opportunity has finally come this semester.

On a sweet side note: It is MANGO SEASON!!! oh yes. A mango a day keeps the doctor away. If only they'd ripen faster, I would make this my personal motto.

* * *

A snapshot of daily life here... in a conversation:
(I was in a small store and just bought a large bottle of water to drink)

Store owner: "You look so tasty."
Me: "Pardon me, sir?"
Owner: "You're very tasty!!"
Me: "...." (confused. not sure how to respond.)
Owner: "The way you're drinking that water you must be tasty."
Me: "Ahh, yes, yes. I am very thirsty!"

A little misunderstanding that we can chuckle about, and also my reminder for me not to take things too seriously. There is something I can find everyday to laugh about.

* * *

Another recent highlight was an AIESEC seminar held at the National Polytechnic School in Bambui. I was invovled in AIESEC at U of I, so I was stoked that it was found here in Cameroon. It's an international student-based organization focused on internship exchanges and leadership development. More info can be found here http://www.aiesec.org/

The AIESEC chapter in Bamenda is still growing and decided to host their first event, a seminar called "Entrepreneurship and the Future for Young Cameroonians." It was two days long over a Friday and Saturday April 1 & 2. Participants who attend the entire thing receive a certificate of completion at the end. I was able to present a short power-point on discovering one's own entrepreneurial skills. woot!

I don't know why we've all posed with our arms like that... but here's a picture with some Board of Advisers, an AIESEC national staff member and the local community president (first on the left in white).

One of my favorite parts of the conference, hanging out with a lil @iesecer who also happened to be my sidekick!

@iesec gala night with winners of the Mr. and Miss @iesec competition

birthday breakfast

March 2nd has come and gone. Maintenant, j'ai 23 ans. Incredibly strange, this growing up thing, but full speed ahead! Thanks to Jacqueline who baked me this surprise lovely cake (butterscotch/chocolate/peanuts combo) for my birthday. Regardez, the cake's a beauty. J's got skill, to concoct something like that in the spur of the moment, in a dutch oven. I even had a Swedish birthday song. Voila, I fine-dined that morning.

Happy Women's Day

Tuesday, March 8th was International Women's Day. It was my first Women's Day celebration and apparently outside of the U.S., it's a pretty big event. I wore a dress made from this year's Women's Day fabric and the color choices were pink or green. I marched with the ladies of the University of Bamenda on Commercial Avenue, in front of the grand stands where the governor was sitting along with other VIPs. They get to sit in chairs nicely in the shade(!) while the sun was beating down on all the women waiting to march. I got to hold the sign board and I was lucky enough to have marched with my group early, so I could grab lunch at a local bar (grilled fish with manioc sticks, fresh carrots & onion with pepe sauce) and head out of town before all the restaurants and streets would be filled with beaming women ready to celebrate. And celebration in Cameroon is DEFINED by food and drink, so you can imagine....

It was hot, chaotic, and the MTN phone network was so backed up that calls/texts wouldn't go through. Apparently there was a promotion of 500 francs and unlimited calls for the whole day. Anyways, we were only a small group of women from UniBa. Earlier that day I asked a female student at school if she was going to celebrate, and she emphasized that "only WOMEN only celebrate, I am still a girl." Aren't we women? I asked her but she said that it was for women with husbands, children and families. hmm... In the future, I can envision an event that unites women (especially women in academia and in education) and will be a bigger platform for discussion (of not only this year's theme of 'gender equality for girls in science and technology) but for many other topics, issues, round tables, conferences etc. In general, it was a day for dialogue and pride and oh, it has so much potential for later years to come. There was a women from the SWAA (Society for Women and AIDS in Africa) organization who was giving out female condoms and doing demonstrations. I looked up their org, here it is: http://www.iwhc.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=137&Itemid=70 That was pretty neat because it represented women's empowerment, freedom, education and choice- which is what this day is all about. So... happy belated Women's Day! (It should happen more often, yea?)

i'll make it up in pictures...

A little yoga by the lake... I felt like Wai Lana, the yoga guru who twists into poses next to beautiful landscapes. There is this narraw rock with a steps to the top. A breathtaking view, really.

In the Adamawa region, about to climb Mt. Ngaoundere....I climbed boulders to reach the summit.

"PINNNED YA!!!" Think Simba and Nala. Puppies playing in the yard by my house.

whizzzing by. Meera and I on a moto in Ngaoundere visiting Lake Tison with Krystina. This is after one tire puncture, getting lost for 40 minutes, lunching with some village women and being driven around by two frustrated moto drivers. As you can imagine, the driver in the back (with me & Meera) was more angry at the one up front (with Krystina), but in the end they ended up becoming semi-friends. I guess a visit to a gorgeous volcanic crate lake will do that to you.

Taxis

I always enjoy taxi rides, especially from Bambili to Bamenda which takes about 40 minutes (for loading and unloading of passengers) to head into town. The ride usually costs 300cfa and if you don’t have exact change, you need to tell the driver before getting in the car so he will know to have change ready. To signal for a taxi, you extend your pointer finger in front of you and just wait on the side of the road. A passing taxi will slow down enough to hear you announce your destination and if he’s going in that direction, he’ll honk the horn for you to board. If not, he’ll just drive away without saying anything. No offense taken. Make sure to greet the passengers to be courteous when you board. It’s usually a simple “morning” “afternoon,” or “evening.”

There is something neat about sitting in a car and briefly sharing someone’s company, then parting for different destinations. I look out at the mountainous landscape (it is all downhill from Bambili) at the people on the side of the road, selling oranges, dozing off at MTN call-boxes, pushing a wagon or carrying rice bags bursting of produce. Friends greet each other with a hearty handshake. People are skewering the day’s soya to grill. Mommies are frying beignets or arranging tomatoes to sell. Small children in bright uniforms are walking to school, the older ones holding the hands of their younger siblings. Each time I head into town, I notice something new. Plus, it’s a chance to listen in on the latest gossip in a mix of English, local dialect but mostly pidgin.

Besides looking outside, it’s very entertaining to observe how a taxi’s interior is decorated. It is fun enough to be squeezed inside a car with four people in the back, and three people in front (with babies and small children the number can be up to 10 )… but crazy decorations are even better. I’ve seen stuffed animals hanging from the rearview mirror, fake flowers carefully placed on a furry spread on the dashboard, dangling second-hand Happy Meal toys, and lacey cloth covering the ceiling. I’ve also seen a plastic skull as the stick-shift knob, and a sticker of Spiderman by the speedometer. There are also stickers on windows ranging from “I love Cameroon” to “Jesus Carries Me” to a smiling Malaysian girl with quotes about friendship to angry-looking green bulldogs. Nearly all taxis have flashing colorful lights in the evening and I’m absolutely positive that no two taxis in Cameroon that are the same.

While I am riding in a taxi, I also read what is written on the bumpers of other taxis while they zip past or cut us off. Taxi-drivers personalize and “jazz up” their vehicles by painting sayings like “Praise Be To God” on their bumper. I’ve come up with a tentative list of the ones I’ve seen:

“Love”
“Les Beaux Sont Tous Rares”
“Shame to Mr. and Mrs. Wicked”
“Plan with God”
“There’s Time for Everything”
“Active Boy”
“Chop with Long Spoon”
“Thanks be to God”
"Bishop"
Well Done
New York City
Even Ballam Cannot Reverse God's Blessing
Baby Take Care
Victory Only Comes from God
Jesus is Lord
The Young Shall Grow
Cover Me with the Blood of Jesus

... so anyone can get their daily dose of advice or philosophical thought from the back of a taxi!

I’ve had to take time to learn and ask the prices to certain locations. Sure, several times the taxi I was in nearly collided head-on with oncoming traffic but … the driver was swerving to avoid the enormous pothole. One time I was in a slow-moving traffic jam and the front right wheel of my taxi fell off, and all the passengers had to continue walking to find another taxi. While this was happening a herd of cattle was coming down the road towards me, making the traffic jam worse. Thank God the wheel fell off when the taxi was moving slowly. All the passengers including me, boarded the same empty taxi up ahead. Oh how taxi rides are an unpredictable adventure.