Beach!

Hi Friends/Family/Random people reading my blog,

So at 2pm today I started my journey to the beach! If all goes well I'll get there on Sunday. Hopefully the train won't derail. We have a conference from December 12-18 in Kribi, which is on the coast. Then I'm going to stay at the beach until December 24th. From December 24-26, I will be climbing mount cameroon. Now it might not be the best idea to start my mountain climbing career on a big mountain, but I'm going for it. I'll be back up in the Extreme North for New Years. So I may not post anything for a while, but don't worry I'll take lots of pictures :) I'll miss everyone during the holidays, but I think it won't be too bad when I'm on top of the mountain on xmas day. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Things that are still awkward about my new home

straddling my coworkers when they give me a ride home on their motorcycle

haggling for everything you buy

sweeping the dirt in front of your house every morning

people going through your garbage

having to burn the rest of my garbage on the side of my house

still having to explain that I am a volunteer and not a rich american

Best lines from the letters my students wrote to the American students

“I love you”

“I'm not black. I'm a chocolate girl.”

“Do you like black people or not?”

of course I told them that the person they're writing to could be black, but they did not believe me!

Things I like about my new home

the availability of phone credit

listening to snoop dog while taking a bucket bath

being able to cut in lines because they don't do lines

being able to tell anyone off, anytime (usually for giving me white man's prices)

being able to curse anytime because no one understands you anyway

eating a whole chicken cooked on the street

street salad

We are together

getting called mama from random people and being able to call people mama

all the white people in the world are my brothers and sisters

repeating things numerous times (cent cent francs)

speaking three languages in one day

anything from nigeria (even phone reception)

walking anywhere is considered doing sports

people saying good morning to me at 10 pm

eating with my hands

laundry drying in 10 minutes

people taking naps outside

people being so happy when i say hi to them that they clap

Smelly Problem.....PART II

So the day after tabaski I ate sheep for breakfast, lunch and dinner. At one point I was pulled off the street by a neighbor to eat sheep with them. Then they were surprised that I “already knew” how to eat it. But when I got to school, my students told me there was poo in the classroom again. Enraged, I asked them to show me the damage. This time, it was not only on the floor, but some deranged child had smeared in on the chalkboard as well. I decided I didn't want to deal with another hour clean up job, so I told my class to go to the next classroom over, since there's always classes whose teacher's do not show up. But the culprit had struck there too! Third times a charm though, and I had class in the next classroom I checked.

Tabaski

All week the sheep around here have been running a muck, bahing all night long and keeping me up! These aren't the small fluffy sheep either. They're like big goats. It's ok though, they were sacrificed today for the Muslim celebration Tabaski. At 9 am, everyone went to the stadium to pray. This was one of the most beautiful things I've seen since being here. There were hundreds of families walking up to the stadium, dressed in their best clothes. The men wear brilliant solid colored long robes with pants and small hats on their heads. The women wear multi-colored fabric made into pagne or wrap skirts, shirts and shawls that wrap around their head and upper body. Many of my students were there and they greeted me. I took pictures with a couple of them. The men and women pray separately, so the men lined up in the front and the women and children in the back. I took a seat in the back to watch. The prayer readers' words in arabic drifted over to me , and I watched all the people move in unison to pray.

After the prayer, I went back to my compound. I waited in anticipation for the killing of the sheep. Two days before, my neighbors had purchased a large sheep that, after a struggle, they tied it to a tree in the yard to await its demise. Finally around 10 am, some men came and brought the sheep over to the designated place, right in front of my house. They dug a small hole and cut the sheep's throat over it so the blood would pour into it. Louise, my two neighbor girls, and I watched from front row seats- my porch. When the men were finished, we went over to the scene. The sheep wasn't dead. It was twitching and writhing, even though it's neck was cut open so much I could see into it's esophagus. I took a picture of all the proud kids and the sheep. After a couple minutes it stopped moving. Then they moved it on top of some roof tiles and proceeded to skin and disembowel it. This took over two hours. About an hour into it, we ate lunch. Sheep meat, sauce and rice of course. My neighbor's proudly presented me with two choice pieces, which I cooked that evening with some steak marinade I brought from home. The rest of the day, I visited people around town. They were all hard at work preparing their sheep as well. Looks like i'm going to be eating sheep for the next few days. It was a very nice day and I think I like the fete de mouton even better than Ramadan.

Field Trip

Do you know how you go down a mountain on a motorcycle? You turn off the engine and hope for the best. I know this because I did it twice on Thursday.I went to visit my friend in a neighboring village to watch one of her classes. This is what happened: At 7:30 am I called my moto driver and he came to my house to pick me up. I told him I was going to Meri and he asked when I was coming back. I said later that day. So he said he'd just stay in Meri all day to take me back too. He was going to make a lot more money on this aller-retour then he would if he went back to our village. So we set off. The trip was pleasant with a nice breeze, since we were doing about 60 km, through the countryside with the mountains in the distance. It gets a little disconcerting when the driver weaved around to avoid potholes, but it was ok. About 30 minutes into the trip, he pointed at a mountain and said we were going to go up that mountain and back down it to get to Meri. I thought he was joking. He wasn't. It's not like there are roads on the mountain. They're kind of dirt roads, but with big stones sticking up too. I'm really surprised we didn't get a flat tire. Going up the mountain was slow going because there were two of us on a little moto driving on these stony paths. Going down, yes my driver just turned off the engine and I closed my eyes. The village was very nice with many traditional houses. It was also in the mountains, so there was not too much shade. After being there for a while, I realized I had no cell phone service-they only have the company that I don't have. That became irrelevant when my phone died anyway. Was I at any point worried that I would not be able to find my driver again? No, not at all. In the afternoon, we asked a couple kids to go find my driver. An hour and a half later, he drove up and we went back home. All in all it was a successful little field trip.

Pen Pals!

So I'm paired up with French classes at Uplift High School in Chicago for a pen pal exchange with my students. I just received the first batch of letters from them (sent on 10/5) and they're great! My students will love them and the american students will learn a lot about how lucky they are.
Some of the letters are hilarious, let's do a few highlights:
“Hello my name is Andrew now I know this is your first time meeting me but don't be shy its all cool. But what do you like to do for fun? I like basketball, do you? How do you like your neighborhood, because my neighborhood its fun around here you and your school should come visit us at our school. but anyway How do you look? I look like a tall guy dat's skinny but I play ball so its ok and plus im 5'10 almost six feet with a mean shot from the three point line mabye you can play me one day but until then au revoir.”

“What do you prefer to eat? I prefer, chicken, corn and cornbread.”

“I'm not really an A student but I'm no fool.”

“I live in Chicago, Illinois, also known as the windy city and trust me it lives up to its name.”

“I like school but I don't love it to death.”

“Is English hard and overwhelming like French is to me?”

“And how do you say sorry, live, laugh, love and forgive me I made a mistake?”

“I play a lot of sports but my favorite is volleyball; I am a star player.”

“ I would like to know what your daily life is. Mine's going to school, doing homework, and hanging out with friends.”

“I'm also a very curious person and I tend to ask a lot of random questions. Do you?”

“Deuces!” Did I miss something?!?

“What do you eat? I eat food like pizzas and burgers.”

“Are you guys traditional?”

“Do you be having to fight in school because people be tryin to talk about you?”

“Do you know Kobe Bryant?”

“My favorite color is blue and I am tall.”

A Smelly Problem

Monday when I arrived at school there was a commotion outside my class. I went into the room and discovered that an animal had gotten into the room and crapped all over the floor. The room stank to high heaven. Cleaning the floor was a complicated operation. First we had to cover the piles of steaming dung with dirt so we wouldn't pass out from the stench. Then we had to find brooms. I am referring to traditional brooms, which are basically sticks tied together. Then we had to look on the list of people who are supposed to sweep on Mondays. Then we had to find these 10 people out of the 114 in the class. Surprisingly, no one was coming forward when their names were called to sweep up the feces. Then they swept the room. They poured water on the dung and swept that too. So instead of learning english, we spent 45 minutes cleaning the floor. When we finally started class, the room still stank but what could we do? So I taught english with kids wearing bandanas and things over their noses.

Teachers' Day

hey just so everyone knows i feel fine now!!! no worries. I want to tell you about our teachers' day celebration. So, school was cancelled of course. They make special clothing material for the holidays here so all of the teachers buy the teachers' day pagne and get an outfit made. We were supposed to meet at the place des fetes at 8 am. Of course, it was raining at 8 so I knew no one would be there. I headed out around 8:50 when it stopped. I was the second teacher from my school to arrive. It was a little chilly (and by chilly I mean upper 70s) so the teacher was wearing a coat, long sleeves and shivering. I was in short sleeves and his teeth were chattering. Another one of my male coworkers came draped in a shawl. The celebration did not start until 10:15. There were teachers from many schools from the neighboring towns. We all lined up and listened to a few speeches. Then we marched to music, in a parade across the field and in front of the “grands.” These are the important people. There were also about 5 photographers, i have no idea where they came from. This ended at 12.Then at 1 we went to the women's center for a luncheon. I was with 2 other volunteers. First we sat down by the other teachers. Then some random guy came and told us to sit in the room with the grands. Then they set up a buffet and served us warm sodas. As we were about to serve ourselves at the buffet, someone told us we needed to go to the other buffet with the commoners. So we were demoted. After we went through the buffet line there, in which numerous arguments took place of course, we went to get our belongings from the grands room. On our way in, someone asks where do you think you're going? ugh it was so confusing. we were like wtf is going on. So then we sit with the other teachers. First one comes up to us and keeps asking questions like “how long are you people here for.” Then it got weird when we said we weren't married and he asked is that why we became teachers, to attract a husband. So then he left. Another guy came over and was nice and chatted for a while. He parted with the tried and true saying they love to say here “we are together.” Yes, they say it in french and english and probably fulfude and mandara too. We are together.

I left this fete around 3 to rest up for the next one at 4. I was mislead into believing this was another fete. Really it was a meeting of our social club. Social may imply fun but this meeting certainly wasn't. Oh mon dieu. First of all the meeting started at 4:40 not 4. Then they argued for 45 minutes about whether we should buy track suits or pagne for our uniform. Yes, apparently this teachers social club wants a uniform to wear to each meeting. They were embarrassed last year when they had a joint meeting with a neighboring school and they all had uniforms but our school did not. So they were determined to get uniforms this year. For those of you thinking a track suit is a bizarre choice, just think about the traditional african clothes they get made here for very cheap prices. The “western” style clothes are much more expensive and are high class. So here even jeans are considered nice dress because not everyone can afford them. So track suits are also coveted. Anyway, so we finally decided after a vote that since we were pretty evenly split, those who wanted pagne would get pagne and those who wanted track suits would get track suits. I voted for track suits because this is going to involve not only sewing our logo on the front, but yes, our last names on the back. This is going to be a keeper. Then three out of the four women teachers, me included, were told to go prepare the sandwiches. So we missed most of the meeting to fill 100 pieces of bread with ground beef and sauce. I'm not sure what the rest of the meeting was about because by that time I was so tired I could not listen to anymore, especially in french. Also, the power kept going out. So we sent someone out for candles and continued the meeting by candlelight. Finally it ended at 7 and we ate and drank and then someone drove me home on their moto because it was pitch black with the moon behind a cloud and the power out. I would have never made it home. I think my first teachers day was a success.

We are together.

Cholera Scare

So this morning I woke up at 3am with horrible abdominal cramps. This wouldn't be the first time, so I laid there until it passed, thinking about what I had eaten the day before. Then at 6am I woke up for school and like usual, had some water and cereal for breakfast. In the next 20 minutes I had watery diarrhea about 4-5 times. This is a sign of cholera. Also, everytime I take a sip of water, I get nauseous. Vomiting is also a symptom. By the way, I live in the heart of the cholera outbreak (yes the disease from Oregon Trails). So I call my friend who's a health volunteer and she says I should go to the hospital. So I go there at 7:30 am. They open at 6am but the doctor wasn't there. I spoke with the janitor in fulfulde/french and he told me that the doctor usually gets in around 8 or so. So I waited in the waiting room, as it started to fill up. Around 8:45 the doctor showed up and even though I was the first person there of course 2 people cut in front of me. When I finally got to talk to him, he said it was probably not cholera because I wasn't projectile vomiting but he said to go get medicine and come back to see how I feel. So I went to the pharmacy to get one kind of medicine. The other stuff I needed was at the clinic. After getting lost on my way to the clinic (again the problem of not having addresses or streets), I finally got the other pill. As I was walking back to the hospital, I took it on the street. Bad call. I immediately felt it start coming back up. I puked numerous times by the side of the road. As I pulled into the hospital again, the principal of my school rolls up in his car. Ca va? no ca va pas. We go talk to the doctor again and he says I should get an IV and stay awhile. The filing system here is basically they give you a little notebook that you keep and everytime you go to the doctor you bring it and he fills in notes. So my brand new notebook says “suspicion of cholera” on the front page. Meanwhile I talked to the Peace Corps medical office and they were in agreement with this plan. So my principal had brought along the school nurse, so she stayed with my in my hospital room. 4 months in Cameroon and there are still surprises. I've come to be able to recognize when a place is clean by Cameroonian standards. This hospital room was definitely not. It was your typical cement room. There was a small metal bed frame circa 1910 and a mattress. No sheets- you bring your own. I was SOL since I didn't know this. There were flies, mosquitoes, spiders and grasshoppers in the room. The walls were filthy. There was a bathroom- no toilet seat, soap or toilet paper. After I purchased my IV supplies at the pharmacy ($15), they hooked me up. The day passed as they came in periodically changed bags and I tried to nap. At one point the school nurse took some of the pills I had bought (no idea why) then disappeared for an hour. Apparently she threw up from them too. Why should took them will remain a mystery to me. Finally since I didn't throw up or have diarrhea anymore they let me go home, instructing me to change my clothes and shower when I got home. I just ate a PB and J sandwich so we'll see how I feel......

Teaching

So I'll describe a typical day of teaching. Thursday, class started at 7:30 am. I was teaching sixieme, which is like 6th grade, so the kids are young and still small. We have not received our order for desk yet, so half the class sits on the floor. They bring little pieces of cloth or scarves to sit on. There's over a hundred students. This is my best class because I'm starting from scratch (they're the youngest) and they are motivated to learn. So I taught how to say and spell their names and where they're from. Two hours for this class gets really long. It's already hot by 8 am. At 9:30 class ends. They scheduled our school meeting for noon, so my 1:15 class gets cancelled. The meeting was originally supposed to be on the 8th but was cancelled due to Ramadan. The meeting starts promptly at noon thirty. It lasts for 5 hours, and includes a summary of pretty much everything that happened the year before at the school. Apparently they have a problem with so called “clando students.” These are the students that do not pass their grade and so they are stuck in the same class. But they refuse to be held back so they go to the next class and do the work, tests for that class. But when its time to do report cards, they do not get a grade for the work they've done in the wrong class, and they fail the class they're supposed to be in. Not to mention the time the teacher spends disciplining them and grading their papers. Students also do this when they have not paid their school fees. At the meeting cold water was served. There was one glass that everyone shared. Then we ate a meal of beef, sauce and manioc (no knife) and drank fanta.

My First Week of School

September 9th, 2010

This concludes my 3rd week at post and my first week teaching at a real Cameroonian high school. About 2 days after getting here I came to the realization that I was going to have to get used to a lot of “me time.” I'm in a city- a district capital. This mislead me to believe that there were going to be things to do and food to eat in my town. The center of town consists of about 25 little tiny shops with the exact same products-pasta, cookies, unscented bar soap and toilet paper. Then there's street venders selling tomatoes, cucumbers, leaves, peanuts, and eggs. I have discovered 3 restaurants in town. The first one I found because I was walking through town with another volunteer that came in for the day and a shady guy came up to us and was like “hissssss hey white girls, there's a restaurant over here.” So of course we follow him through an alley and lo and behold, there was a restaurant with a chalkboard menu and everything. I asked if they had cold drinks and he said yes they have fish. I love language barriers. So we sit down. When ordering drinks, it turns out they only have ginger juice, which is fine because it's delicious. Then my friend orders fish and I order chicken. They're out of chicken. Beef? no they're out of that. Ok fish it is. The fish was good and the elation of finding a good restaurant lasted until my friend and I had a case of the runs when we got home. Not gonna lie, I'll probably go back.

So this week was the first week of school. I was told to be there on Monday at 6:45am. So of course I got there at 6:40 and there was not a soul in sight. The first people started coming in about 7:20. The principal rolled up at about 8:15 in a car, the only person who has one. All the teachers gathered in his office for a meeting. He gave us all a pamphlet on Cholera and said that the ministry requested that we teach our first lesson on cholera. I'm the only female teacher. The only other woman working at the school is the secretary. The new people that just got transferred are not even here yet. So the first day I introduced myself to my classes, which had about 15 out of 100 people present. This week was the last week of Ramadan, so many students did not come. Others didn't come because they did not know that school was starting, so we told people to tell their friends. No one this whole week showed up for afternoon classes. I was told by numerous people that it was because of the sun. Don't get me wrong, if I was fasting I would not want to come to class either but really? the sun in africa? All week, the date of Ramadan was unsure because it goes by the moon. So if it ended up being Thursday we would not have class Friday. Well, it turned out to be Friday, but only about 20 out of 2800 students showed up for class on Thursday (must have been the Christians) and so class and the general meeting were cancelled. The classes I did teach went fairly well. The students are far below the level in English that they need to be, but I was expecting that. It's just also really hard to teach people vocabulary about 'The News' when you can't even buy a newspaper in the town and most of them don't have TVs. I have to teach them the concept and then the English which puts a wrench into things.

My First African Bike Trip

On Tuesday I felt up to the challenge of riding my bike to visit my friend in Tokombere and checking out the market in her town. I didn't know exactly where I was going or how far it was. I knew that other volunteers made the trip and it took them about an hour. So my friends directions were as follows, turn right, its far down that road, go over two bridges which may be full of water but maybe some people will be there to direct you, and then the paved road turns into a dirt road, pass some villages, then the road becomes paved again and you will see the place des fetes. (On a side note, this is how directions are in the rural areas. There are no street names, no names of businesses, nothing). So I venture off at 8:50 am with a water bottle, some pretzels and a vague sense of where I am going. It takes about 10 minutes to ride out of my town. Once I am on the open road, I feel great. The sky is blue, the mountains are all around me. I pass many people on bikes as well, even a couple women. They are not on pleasure rides, though. They are transporting goods like huge sacks of rice or big containers of water. Or another person on the little basket in the back. About 45 minutes into my trip, I start to get tired, which is not surprising considering I have not done any exercise except for a couple of yoga classes in the last few months. So I hope that I am at least half way there. Then my first hill comes. I'm going uphill of course. By the time I get to the top, I want to keel over. Did I mention that I am biking in the desert? Yeah by this time it is hot, I'm an hour into my bike ride, and I'm not sure how long it will take me. Finally I get to the turn off. I try not to think about how she said its a long way off once you turn. The sign said 14 kilometers, which I think is about 10 miles. I'm hoping everything is relative. No, an hour later I am seriously considering pulling over and taking a nap by the side of the road. At this point other bikers are passing me like its their job. I haven't even reached the dirt road yet. Who knows if I'm even going the right way. I've been riding for 2 hours. Then up ahead I see a crowd of kids. This isn't going to be good, I think. Yep, its the first bridge. And there's rushing water going over it. I try to fight them off and say I can carry my bike myself, but they are stubborn. So about 15 boys help me and my bike across the river. Then they say they will take euros or dollars...really?? Next they see that my front tire needs air so they pump a little in it (yes we have little pumps attached to our bikes). So I give them some cfa and continue on. 45 minutes after that, I seriously think I am headed in the wrong direction. How can this be taking me almost 3 hours??? Should I just pull over and have my friend send me a moto? Finally I start to see something like civilization, and I ask someone if that is Tokombere, and she says yes. By this time I am so exhausted I don't know how I'm still pedaling. My muscles are not only sore but so tired they barely work. It seems like forever until I finally reach the place des fetes and call my friend. The first thing I say is I'm taking a moto back. I would like to say I feel a sense of accomplishment from finishing my bike tour, it turns out it was only about 25 kilometers, which I think is about 18 miles. And it took me about 3 hours which is terrible time. I don't know if I'll ever do another bike tour. I did feel good after 3 hours, chugging water, and eating. I had my first salad in 3 months. My friend Claire and I went to the market, which is an experience. The first lady we go up to doesn't speak french, and we dont speak enough fulfulde yet. Some young man says, “you look like you need help” in excellent english. The whole time we were at the market a group of children, also known as pickpockets, were following us. We bumped into everyone Claire knows of course. When we got to her house, we soaked the lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes and onions in bleach water (to prevent cholera). Then I made a vinaigrette dressing and it was one of the best things I've eaten here so far! So then Claire's friend said he would book my car back to my village. I give him the money and he comes back and says they're leaving in 5 minutes! So I rush over there and pack into this conversion size van, with 25 people. There is a chicken by my foot that is thrashing and I don't want it to bite me. Each time the driver needs to start the car it takes 3-4 tries. We get home about an hour later and I ride my bike back to my house. I figured if I didn't want to be sore the next day I should do some yoga. It was really nice out so I put my mat down outside. My neighbors stared at me the whole time and the little boys tried doing it with me. Then I went inside to take a shower. After my shower, I go into my bedroom and see that there is an inordinate amount of termites. Don't get me wrong, there's usually a bunch, and when I first got here I had to destroy like 5 of their little sand houses. So I follow them to the source and see that there is about a million behind my bed and I had missed one house. So I spray them all with insecticide. I made the mistake of coming back into the room 5 minutes later, because I heard the sound of a million little termites writhing in pain and dying. Not a pleasant sound. Still haunting me. 10 minutes later, they are dead. And do you know whats almost as bad as a million termites in your room, a million dead termites in you room. I spent the next 20 minutes sweeping the dead lifeless carcasses up. I slept like a rock that night. I don't know if I'm cut out for this whole bike tour thing.

Rainy Day in B-town

Today was a rainy day, which means we spent most of the day waiting for the rain to stop. The afternoon was a performance for all the clubs to show what they worked on during model school. Since it was raining, first of all half the kids didn't show up. We started about an hour and twenty minutes late, typical african time. The performance was outside too. So we were sitting in desks on mud. It was awkward. Then halfway through the performances (girls club was awesome btw) it starts to really pour so we go into the teachers room or on the porch. So its about 100 people packed into one classroom. Don't worry I took pictures. Basically everyone at this point was waiting for the rain to abate for a few minutes so we could go wherever we wanted to go. Just as we started to get really bored, the glee club performed. AWESOME! I slightly regretted not doing glee club, but my girls needed me. They even wrote a song. It perked everyone up so much that we left afterwards even though it was still raining. In the morning we had finished our presentations in french, which was basically the last piece of work we need to do for training. So, at this point we headed to the bar. We proceeded to pass the next four hours just shooting the shit, doing silly things and taking pictures (which will be posted on facebook). It was basically one of the most fun days here so far. It ended with us buying a huge pot full of week old popcorn for $4 and eating ourselves silly then going home before the 7:00 curfew of course.

The fun continued at my host family's house. When I got home, my bath bucket was sitting outside collecting rain for my bath. Yay, rain water instead of well water! (Less likely to get eye worms from rain water) But it was sooo cold...the water and the fact that it wasn't too hot out...brrrrr..My host brothers told me that they were stuck inside all day because of the rain and they couldn't play at all!! So they asked me to tell them a story. I don't know any stories in french, so I pull out the one french novel I brought, entitled, Un Caprice du destin (A twist of fate). Its a harlequin romance. I thought it would be ok to start reading to them because the riské parts were probably far into the book....um no the first page started to describe what the guy was wearing and I was like ohhhhh noooo. Luckily then they said they would tell me a story because mine was too long (its not a reading culture) and I was like ok! and he told me the story of the tortoise and the hare. Then while I was eating dinner the power went out. Of course this happens on the night that I drink coffee with dinner (because its a cold day...in the 70s)...greeaaat.. so thats why I'm writing this blog post now with the remaining battery on my computer. I'm all hopped up on instant nescafe coffee (so delicious after not having starbucks for 2 months!) I felt like I should share this day which is typically african but sooo not american because I have the feeling there will be many more like this to come in the next two years....Surprisingly, I'm kinda looking forward to more rainy days...especially since I'm moving to the desert next week....

xoxo Liz

It is still really overwhelming here so I find that I am not able to write a coherent narrative. I will just continue giving you little tidbits of what training has been like.

Cooking lunch for my host family: First of all, on Friday I told my host family that I would cook something for them tomorrow since I didn't have class, and they say, “It's about time. We've been waiting for you to do that for so long.” They're pleasant. On Saturday I walked into town to get a couple things I needed and to buy ingredients to make lunch. I was going to make mac and cheese but they don't really eat cheese and the only cheese available in this town is Laughing Cow, which doesn't have to be refrigerated, alerting you to the quality. And they use powdered milk here, but I digress. So I decide to make a tomato sauce because they like tomatoes. So I put tomato paste, fresh tomatoes and basil, garlic onions and salt and hot pepper into the sauce. They love hot pepper and I myself enjoy a good arrabiata sauce. But then they also insisted I put sardines into the sauce, because that is what they're used to. I like sardines so I was like ok get sardines, they didn't make a big difference anyway. Then they told me to add water. They looooove their sauces watery as hell here so I was expecting that. Except I have to be really careful with the water here, so I added some at the beginning of cooking which would be fine. But at the end when the sauce actually had chunks in it and was not like water they kept trying to add more and I was like stop! I will get sick (because we weren't going to boil it anymore). Also, when I was making the garlic bread, the people that put piment on everything complained that garlic is spicy. Really? It just goes to show you different cultures tastes. To make the garlic bread, I slathered the butter flavored spread (that doesn't get refrigerated of course) on baguettes and put fresh garlic on them then toasted them in a frying pan because they don't have an oven. That was one of the best meals I've eaten since getting here, so I am really looking forward to cooking my own meals when I get to post (August 21st!!). My family said, “its good, after you add Maggi and hot pepper to it.” Maggi, oh maggi, don't get me started on maggi. My whole foodies will love this. Its basically MSG, which is sold in liquid or cube form here. They love it and put it on everything. Then my family proceeded to have a conversation about how white people don't like a lot of seasoning. Overall, a typical Saturday afternoon :)

So later that day I went to my first Cameroonian nightclub. And by later I guess that means Sunday morning, because the clubs don't get bumpin till 3 am here. But let me start by explaining that typically we have a 7pm curfew. Most Saturday nights we get that extended if we are together and tell our director. He gave us permission to go to the club, and told us it would be safer to stay all night like the Cameroonians do and walk home in the morning. So we had a sign up sheet and you had to write your name and then what time you were staying till. I signed up for “all night long.” Love it. So there's 43 of us in the group and the fantastic 4 of us actually made it to the club, along with some current volunteers. We danced the night away, including some salsa (thanks for those moves mar and meli) and it was actually funner than I thought. The club was really nice and the drinks were 3,500 cfa which is outrageous because they are 500 at the bars!!! There were 2 dance floors with mirrors of course and the Cameroonians loved dancing with their reflection in the mirror. One person said its because they don't really have mirrors in their houses, so its the only time they see themselves. I had one of my funnest moments here so far when we were all dancing and the Shakira world cup song came on. I don't know if you guys know it but it says this time's for africa, so when they played it, it was awesome dancing with cameroonians and singing “This time's for Africa” with them. It was great. Then I had this guy that kept coming over to dance, but then his girlfriend would come get him. I knew that was not going to end well. About 4 am we called it quits (it was still packed) and crashed at a friends house until sunrise. Of course I tried to take a shortcut in the morning and got lost. This is one of those things thats going to be hard to explain because its really so different. But I will try. Most of the roads here are packed dirt and full of potholes. A shortcut basically means walking through a path in the bushes, like nothing you would ever walk on in the US. Plant-life everywhere, its great. But hard to navigate. So I had to turn back and take the long way.

So one thing that I would have never thought of about being here is that there are no streetlights or anything. So when you walk around at night its pitch black and everyones just walking on their way. Even to go get water from the well at night, I can't see anything. I could take a flashlight but I want to get used to the Cameroonian way. I just never thought of this adjustment while I was in the states. So, this week has been hotter than hell but other than that the heat has really been the least of my worries and the easiest adjustment to make. However when I go to post that might change because it gets up to 140 degrees there...

So I'm leading Girls Club with 2 other people, and we have played soccer, volleyball, had a martial arts guy come to teach them self-defense, and did self-empowerment activities. Next week at the end of Model School all the clubs are performing, and we are going to sing Beautiful by Christina A.

I have gotten many outfits and dresses made and I am loving everyone of them, especially the one made out of specially made Peace Corps material. Its a keeper. I also got a purse made, its pretty great.

So Sunday night I got a horrible sore throat and lost my voice so teaching has been rough this week. I have to resort to a lot of hand gestures. Good thing its review this week.

Alright I think that's all my updates for now.

xoxox Liz

hey guys i put some pics on facebook you should check them out!

So I survived my first week of teaching in Cameroon. There were tears, and there was laughter.....j/k i didn't actually cry although it was one of the hardest weeks of my life. For 6 out of the 8 hours I taught I had Quatrieme, which is the equivalent of eight grade although the ages of the students vary greatly because they don't always start school on time or pass the grades. There were ups and there were downs. Sometimes they would surprise me by getting all 5 of the true/false questions on the reading correct, and sometimes they did not do their homework because I gave them an assignment which was way too advanced for them. The biggest struggle is that there are about 5 kids who actually know what I'm saying and the rest are lost. They also constantly talk in class, which isn't surprising because they don't see the value of learning English in eight grade. There is also the fact that the classrooms here are all like separate buildings or rows of classrooms. They do not have electricity or windows or anything, just holes cut in the walls for ventilation. The only thing in the classrooms are wooden desks which consist of a bench for sitting and a bench for putting your books on. The teacher's desk is a little table built into the wall. The only other thing in the classrooms is a small chalkboard. Students cannot afford books here, so we as teachers get a copy of the book that we can hopefully photocopy or get other materials from the internet. The only resources provided are brown butcher paper and markers to write out exercises or readings before class instead of taking the time to write them on the chalkboard. The classrooms are literally falling apart. They are made of cement but they are crumbling and full of holes and cracks.There are 3 latrines for the students to use, but most of the time they just do their business in the field out back. The school is one of the only places that has garbage cans. The students that come late spend their first hour at school picking up garbage and putting it in the garbage pile by the field, which they burn periodically. The boys also cut the grass with machetes as punishment. Many students are late because they have work to do in the morning, like fetching water, cooking, cleaning, or selling beignets in the market. At lunchtime some mommies from the community sell goodies like fish pockets, spaghetti and avocado sandwiches (my favorite) or omelets. Sellers also come around carrying boiled eggs, peanuts and other things on their head.

So I had two stories that should probably be shared....one was wednesday when I went to school wearing one of the african shirts I had made. Well, the zipper in the back decided to break during class so my whole back was exposed to the class when I was writing on the board. A group of girls in my class came over to try to help me but it was no use. So I had to wear my backpack to cover myself and I went home to change over the lunch break.

Another good one was when I taught premiere, which is equivalent to junior year, so they know english pretty well. The topic was science so I found an article on yahoo about the position of peoples belly buttons explaining why black people are good at running and whites at swimming. Then after we read the article the first question they asked was what is a belly button. And the second and third questions were whats an innie and whats an outtie---I'm teaching the future of Cameroon here!

I hope this gives you a little glimpse into what a Cameroonian school day is like and where I will be working for the next two years.

For those of you who don't believe you can gain weight while living in Africa, picture this: spaghetti sandwiches.

Also, I started learning an African language yesterday, fulfuldé, which is pretty much blowing my mind because not only is pretty much everything here new, but also because we're learning it from french to fufuldé, not english. I'm pretty sure that my head exploded like 4 times since then. Fufuldé is the language of the Grand North part of Cameroon. In my town they actually speak something different as well called mandara.

Here are the 2 articles I wrote for our training newsletter:

How To Kill A Cockroach

by Liz Adamo

I hit the pavement on Tuesday with one mission in mind: to discover the best way to kill a cockroach. Having never encountered one until I arrived in Bafia, I was unsure how to handle the disposal of these creatures that I like to refer to as “big beetles.” One day, one silly specimen, which was apparently living in my bedroom door, did not make it back to its home in time before I shut the door on half its body. Surprisingly, it was still alive, which I discovered when I pulled the other half of the body out of my door frame. A novice to the slaying of cockroaches, I smashed the little critter, only to discover that when you do so, a good amount of what can only be described as goo oozed out of the body. Not wanting to ever repeat this experience, I interviewed a few trainees to see if they had any ideas of their own. This is what they had to say:

Jeneca described three methods in detail. The Shoe Method, in which one whacks the cockroach with a shoe. The Bugspray method, which she says you can purchase at the supermarché. Finally, she mentioned The Starvation Method, in which one traps the roach under a glass and waits for it to starve to death.

Claire had another unique method. She said the best way to kill a cockroach would be to first flip it over. Then make a tissue sandwich with it so when you smash it the guts do not get all over.

Ben had some other ideas. He said smash its head, use insecticide, or eat it.

Allison described a method in which her host brother use a broom to flip the cockroach over. Then her siblings play with it and never really kill it at all.

Finally, Christina says you should just throw something at it.

It is up to you to decide which method works for your lifestyle. Good luck!

Les poules ne se perdent pas au Cameroun

La caractéristique qui me frappe la plus forte au Cameroun est que la vie me semble de passer lente. Aux états-unis, on dit que la journée n'a pas assez d'heures. Les américains ont tellement d'activités et choses matérielles pour occuper le temps. Mais il me semble que parfois, les américains ne prennent jamais le temps pour vivre, sans la télévision, l'ipod ou l'ordinateur. Mes voisins camerounais passent les jours assis sous un arbre à l'extérieur de leur maison. Ils y cuisine, se bavardent, et soignent leur petite bébé. Cela ne passent jamais aux états-unis. C'est vrai qu'on y connaît l'importance de la famille, mais on ne passe pas chaque jour dans cette manière.

Un jour, j'ai vu les poules de ma famille d'accueil pendant que je assoyais au porche avec ma mère. Je l'ai demandée, “Comment est-ce que les poules rentrent chaque nuit?” Et elle a répondu, “Les poules ne se perdre pas.” De même, aussitôt que les américains modernisent de plus en plus, et mettent tellement de l'importance sur les choses matérielles, leurs maisons deviennent de plus en plus obscures.

Translation:

Chickens Always Know Their Way Home in Cameroon

The most striking characteristic of Cameroon that I have noticed thus far is that life is lived slowly. In the United States, we say that there are not enough hours in a day. Americans have so many activities and material things to occupy their time. But it seems to me that sometimes they never take the time to just live, without TV, an ipod, or the computer. My Cameroonian neighbors spend each day sitting under a tree in their front yard. There they cook, chat and even care for their little baby. This situation would never be seen in the United States. I'm not saying that we don't know the value of family, but we also do not spend each day in this manner.

One day, I saw my host family's chickens while sitting with my host mom on the porch. I asked her, "How do the chickens get back to their house every night?" And she responded, "chickens always know their way home." In contrast, as americans become increasingly modernized, and place more and more emphasis on material goods, their homes are becoming increasingly obscure.

Visiting my new home and other random tidbits

I only have 1 hour left on my computer battery so I'll jot down some tidbits about my site visit this week. I'm posted in the far north region and the trip takes 3 days. (email me if you want to know the town I'm in). So we were supposed to leave Tuesday then they told us wednesday. Tuesday morning we show up and theyre like surprise, you're leaving today at noon, go home and you have 20 minutes to pack. That was the beginning of this long voyage: 2 hour bus ride, 16 hour train ride (overnight) and then an 8 hour bus ride and another 1.5 hour bus ride. So the first night I finally got to my town, i was with a few other volunteers from the area. They took me to their friend Patti's bar, which was really just a lady's front yard. All of a sudden a storm rolled in so we went inside the house. She then preceded to pull out mattresses for us to sleep on because obviously we were not going to go home that night. So I laid down of course. We ended up going home later. Except for the big cities the taxis are motocycles here. So we took motos home on wet unpaved roads. We only fell off once.

I also forgot to mention that on one of the bus rides we ran over a goat. I saw it coming and the bus driver did not slow down. Then I looked back and the baby goat was on the ground disappearing behind us....

Animals such as chickens, goats and sheep run free here. My friend even has a turkey at her house. Somehow they belong to people tho (more on that later).

So I went up north with 4 other girls. We were all sick by the trip back because we had no notice and we did all this traveling to spend 1 day in our town. then we had to turn back and do it again. everyone was on the bus feeling sick, people were puking on the bus or in bushes at the side of the road. These french people came up to me during one of the stops and were like are you guys ok? I was like its been a long week.

So when you are traveling by bus there is no bathroom. you have to go by the side of the road when the bus stops. but the bus always stops at a town, so it gets weird. people usually end up seeing you do your thing.

on the 4th of july we stopped at someone's house for a party. they grilled burgers and made mac and cheese potato and fruit salad. then people obnoxiously read the declaration of independence and various other american documents. it was pretty funny.

At a bar the other night I ordered fish and of course how do you eat it? with your hands. thats why hand sani is really useful here....

So today we had the opening ceremony for the summer school we're having here (for us to train) and we had to sing the star spangled banner. I took the high note at the end there...it was great. i knew ms hansons teaching would come in handy in africa.

Thats all I can think of for now. we have internet at the site now so I will be able to update more. let me know if you have any questions.

xoxoxo Liz

Pic of the mark that the shot made

The First Blip in the Trip

I have no idea where to begin with this whopper. At the end: I'm still in NYC. Or at the beginning? Wednesday's orientation went fine. Everyone seems really nice. Then came Thursday: one of the top worst of my life. We went to get yellow fever vaccinations first thing in the morning. Then I thought it was a good idea to drink a big cup of coffee immediately after, as we were going to be traveling for the next 24 hrs. Next we took a bus to NYC because we were flying out of JFK. Towards the end of the bus ride I started to get nauseous. I just thought it was a little car sickness since it was a bumpy bus ride. When we got to the airport, I was feeling really weak so I asked one girl for some water. I still didnt feel right so someone gave me a granola bar. Even though I wasn't feeling too bad, I could tell something was not right. I hoped that the water and granola bar would help, but I few minutes later I felt like I was going to pass out. My heart started beating so hard, it was racing. I told the people in my group and they said I should sit down. My heart raced and raced so fast I thought I was having a heart attack. People gave me more water and I started to feel better. But then the feeling came back a few minutes later. Now I was panicking because I knew I needed to be in good shape to get on a plane. But I felt so weak and my heart wouldnt stop beating so fast. My "group leader" called the Peace Corps medical people and they said I should go to the hospital. So he went to search for some help. A cop came over to talk to us and he went on to say that I didnt want to go to the hospital because it was "a nasty place." Needless to say, that made me feel a whole lot better. After a while, the paramedics got there. They said that even though my blood pressure was pretty high, there was probly nothing wrong and the only thing the hospital would do would give me an IV. We debated for like 20 mins until they were like there's 2 other calls waiting for us....we finally decided I should go because I wasn't feeling like I could get on a plane. So, my group sent me off in an ambulance with all 3 of my bags to Jamaica Hospital. They said hopefully, "we will see you in Cameroon!"

So, we get to Jamaica hospital, which is as good as it sounds. It takes about an hour just to register because everyone that came in was more sick than me so they would take them first. I was starting to feel better. After they finally got me in, the emts tried to hide my luggage (unsuccessfully) behind my hospital bed. My huge backpack couldnt fit, so it was on the bed with me.

I need to mention that this whole time I'M WEARING MY SAFARI HAT.

It took about 2 hours to see a doctor. One cardiac arrest went whizzing by. They took an EKG, blood and urine and everything came back fine, of course. The doctor said that since there was no localized reaction to the vaccination, it was not a bad reaction. He said I had an anxiety attack. It was really weird because I've never had one and I wasn't even nervous. Everyone was on the bus talking and stuff, its not like I was freaking out. Since I spent 5 mins talking to him, I don't think his diagnosis was right. And theres also the fact that now there is a huge red mark where I got the shot. The Peace Corps was great the whole time and called to check on me, etc. The first thing they asked me was, "do you feel safe where you are??". ha. But the best part of the hospital visit was when the nurse came over and our conversation was this:

"I have your pain medication."

"Pain medication??"

"Yeah, the morphine"

"MORPHINE??"

"Oh wrong person, sorry."

That would have been bad. So, 4 hours later I was discharged. By this time, I had missed the flight. All 40+ people in my group were gone. The Peace Corps booked me at a hotel by the airport. I was hoping for a flight on Friday, but alas, my bad luck continued. Not only did I have to get a doctors note from the hospital saying I was medically able to fly (my name was flagged for medical reasons!!!) but the next flight they could get me was for Monday.

So here I am, enjoying as best I can a long weekend in NYC, Queens actually, by myself when I should be in Cameroon. I will be 5 days behind when I get there which isnt so bad because training is 3 months. So Saturday I went to lunch at an Austrian cafe for some bratwurst and the best apple streusel ever!! Then I went to the Frick museum. Today I went to the statue of liberty and ellis island. My underwire set off the metal detector at the entrance. great.

I've got to say, Queens is growing on me ;)

Will update from Africa (hopefully) soon.

Well, well well, look who we have here

So I have 2 weeks to not only pack to move to Africa but also to learn how to blog. Awesome. It's always good to learn new things.....thanks for checking out my blog though, you're so sweet. I have never even written a journal or anything so this is a new experience, and you are along for the ride! I guess I will just ramble on and if you want to know anything specific, leave a comment. I am definitely open to suggestions. For those of you who need it in writing to make it official, I am leaving on a 6am flight on June 2nd. I will fly to Philly for a day of orientation. On the morning of June 3rd, we go get some shots and malaria meds and then we are off!! I will fly through Brussels to get to Cameroon. What am I up to you ask? Well, Sunday was my last of work at Whole Foods, which was sad because I made a few good friends there, but we will keep in touch so no wouris. By the way, whoever figures out where I got the title gets a prize ;) so for the next two weeks I am going to do the following: EAT EAT EAT until my ears bleed. the food in Cameroon is supposed to be good, since I will be cooking it for myself most of the time but from what I can tell there is no mexican or italian or sushi--yikes! See friends and family-apparently I am getting kidnapped to an unknown destination on Saturday.....I was told I would be out all night and to take a bag.....awesome. Also, going away party at my house on the 29th for those of you who haven't gotten the memo I'm taking the GRE on the 28 because I like to torture myself and I plan on applying to some really cool grad school programs while I am in Cameroon, some of which involve not coming back to the US. but let''s not get ahead of ourselves Pack and make my arrangements, lets just say, for leaving for 2+ years That's all I got for now. Comment comment comment and pass this link around. thanks love ya