The contents of this website are mine personally and do not express the views of the U.S. government or Peace Corps.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

My job

At first glance the school looks like it could be in California. Because of the warm climate, the classrooms are open-air style. The buildings are small, containing one to three classrooms only. The buildings are made out of cement and are painted blue. The roofs are made out of tin. They glint silver in the sunlight and when it rains its difficult to hear anything but the sound of the raindrops. Some have pretty lattice cut style windows and others are just rectangular shaped holes with grey shutters. However when you step inside, you know you are not in the US. The walls are covered in graffiti. The desks are long benches that seat five of the younger children and three of the older ones at one time. They are simple benches made from light colored wood, and except for the new ones, they are also covered in scribbling. The floor is covered in dust, candy wrappers, dirty tissues, and broken pens. The students are assigned days that they are supposed to sweep in groups, but many times they do not do it. The brooms provided are traditional-dried palm leaves tied together with a piece of string. Many times there are critters in the room, like lizards or frogs. Sometimes a bird will fly in, maybe even intentionally fying right through the room. All the classrooms are fairly large because they need to seat up to 180 adults (since that's what many of the oldest students are). The blackboard is not in good condition. The surface is so old the chalk will not write on it. In fact, when you try to write on it, the chalk just turns black. Some parts of the blackboard might be separating from the wall. The room is often so large that even if you wrote very very large, the students in the back won't be able to see. Or there will be a glare from the sun blocking one side of the room from seeing, and in another section, its blocking the other side of the room. There is usually a group of at least 20 students who literally cannot see anything thats written on the board. When students say, “Madame, I can't see,” I often go right next to them and look, just to see from their perspective. The board will look like a bright light is shining on it and you can't even tell there's writing on it. The motivated students will go to the 2 foot space in the front of the room between the board and where the desks are and crouch down to copy what's written. Some people in the back stand up to be able to see. Others just copy from someone else that was able to see. All this shenanigans obviously takes a lot of time.

When I walk over to a classroom, the students see me if they are not already inside and they start going in. It takes a few minutes just for everyone to go in, find a seat, cram themselves into a desk. There's usually an argument or two about desks. My sixth grade class, which is known as glorified babysitting, is the worst and the fight usually gets physical. Often the last person to sit down pushes the person on the other end to fall over onto the floor humpty dumpty style. When I walk in I greet everyone good morning or afternoon. Walking in to a classroom of 150 adults stopped being intimidating after about 5 minutes, however its still very exhausting and mentally draining. The students are supposed to stand until the teacher tells them to sit down. Many times people in the middle or back are not standing up, so I specifically go over and say hi to them, and they snap right up. Again, in sixth grade, I spend about 10 minutes walking around the room getting everyone to sit down. There is never absolute silence in my class. I don't expect there to be-there's just too many people and I can't stare at them all at the same time. The first question I always ask is “what's the date today?” I've asked this question every day for 5 months and there's still people that don't know what I'm saying. Then I choose someone to write it in the corner of the board. Not a day goes by when someone writes it on the first try. It's not even that they make mistakes, which they often do, but its because if it is not absolutely perfect the first time, they have to erase the entire thing and start over. There is a large amount of heckling during the writing of the date. Everyone who didn't have the courage to volunteer to write it sits there and comments on every little thing the person is doing.

To start the lesson, I write the heading-English Language on the board. About 100 or so students feel the need to say “english language” everyday. At least they're practicing. Then I write the topic of the lesson. Reading comprehension lessons are the most difficult to do therefore I usually do grammar lessons. I am becoming pretty good at English grammar. Pretty good-not an expert. It's difficult when you know what the correct rule is but you have no idea why it's correct. Reading comprehension lessons are difficult because of course only about 5 or so students actually have a textbook. So you can pay to have photocopies made, write it on the board (which of course takes a long time because they also have to copy too), write it on paper beforehand (which costs money and time) or pay to have copies made. The other problem with photocopies is that they have to share (160 copies is too much money) and they go nuts when there's copies and try to hoard them, hiding them and asking for another. Fights have also broken out over photocopies. Horrifyingly, I think some of the teachers just read out loud passages to the students, who obviously will not understand anything. Except for my seniors, I usually just write a paragraph or two on brown paper for a reading passage because there's not enough time for much else.


Saturday, January 15, 2011

Bucket Bath Update

Lovin these bucket baths but one night I came home after a god awful, long meeting at school (3pm-9pm. (it didnt actually start till 4)) so I have all the lights in my house going and I plug in my trusty water heater. A few second later the lights flicker and then I notice that the power strip that it was plugged into is no longer lit. Ok, I think, maybe its a fluke. So I move the bucket fill of water into the living room and plug it in there. Immediately all the lights in my entire house go out. I look next door to my neighbor's and their lights are out. Ok, I think, maybe its a fluke. So I went to bed dirty, cold, and feeling slightly guilty about my neighbor's.

The next morning everything was fine! But now I make sure not to have too many things plugged in at once. And I only take a bucket bath every other day.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Bits and pieces

I feel very integrated this week. I got excited about a bucket bath because it has been soooo cold here (in the 50s in the morning and up to the 80s or 90s in the afternoon) so I have not been liking cold showers at night. Basically I hadn't taken a full-on shower in a couple weeks. Then I remembered that the guy that lived here before me had left a water heater. I had been avoiding it because I didn't know what it was when I moved in and electricuted myself testing it out. 7 months later, I know what a water heater is and understand why it is needed in the middle of the savanah. So I cautiously tried it out last night and wow was that the best bucket bath I've ever had! I basically plugged it in and put it in the bucket of water for 15 minutes and voila! Warm water for my bath.

So today I went to the gas station to search for gas for my bottle again. No gas. We are waiting moment to moment for gas. There's probably not gas in Maroua either (I checked-there's not). So I got the gas station guy's number and I can call him to check instead of walking 2 miles. I might have to ask my neighbors how to cook over an open fire. That's what most people do here. They have an outdoor kitchen and have a fire going all day which they cook on. People sell wood for it in the street.

Then my friend's water went out and we wanted to boil potatoes so we went to the well and then we carried it back on our heads. She dripped it all over herself.


Happy New Year!

New years was amazing! A guy here organized a real fete with food, drinks (so many drinks) and a moto driver to drive anyone that needed a ride. It was the usual crazy new years madness, I won't go into detail except for one incident in which my dance moves went awry. It was about 3 am, and I went to dip my friend but she was very intoxicated and she face planted into the floor, breaking open her chin. It was bleeding pretty bad, so we took her to the bathroom, where we discovered that she was beligerent and I should not have been performing dangerous moves like that with her on the dance floor. This also reminds me of a similar time with Coll Will (You know what I'm talking about Coll.) So my friend (who shall remain nameless) decided it was a good idea to splash water on the cut, which just made a bloody mess all over the bathroom and her shirt. Right about this time, someone came to tell her that it was time to leave for the bus (they were catching the 4am bus because its an 8-10 hour ride). Timing couldn't be better. So it was time to pull ourselves together. We took her into the bedroom to change her shirt. She was so drunk we literally had to dress her. She also insisted on wearing her “travelling skirt,” so it was a full outfit change. The light in the bedroom was burned out so we were stumbling around in the dark and woke up the person sleeping in there, who was like “Wtf are you guys doing.” Then we sent her off on a motorcycle with her luggage and a fresh outfit, crossing our fingers that she made it to the bus.

So today I got home and there were a couple surprises waiting for me: a dead lizard in my sink, my fridge was completely covered in mold, and my cat was bigger! Also, right before I left, my gas tank (used for cooking) had run out (I was living off peanuts for a few days there) and there was no gas in town today, so still can't cook. Will try again tomorrow!

2011 is going to be great, at least that's what I keep telling myself ;)

Mission Failed

So on xmas eve we started climbing the mountain. I stopped having fun after about 2 minutes. It was so hard and steep and the guides didn't want us to stop because our muscles would cramp. We started around 8:30 am. I called it quits at 12:30. I made it up 2,000 meters to the end of the treeline. It took three hours to get down. I was disappointed not to reach the top but I felt like I accomplished something, since I've never been mountain climbing in my life and I did a full day.

So on the way down the mountain I called my friend who was at the beach. I didn't have any money or clothes except for a kaba (a moo moo) and a tracksuit, because I had planned on just climbing the mountain then returning to the city. My friend offered to borrow we money and clothes so I immediately set off for the beach, only a 30 minute bus ride away. I was amazed when we started driving without the bus being full, but somehow we were driving down the street and people were just hopping on as we went along. Then I spotted a child selling cotton candy, so of course I bought some out the window of the bus. About 2 km from our destination, the bus broke down. I was able to squeeze (literally-there were about 20 other people) into another bus that appeared on the side of the road. I also had to transfer my backpack from the top of one bus to the other. Finally I made it to Limbe. Then I spent about 10 minutes negotiating the price of a taxi. The driver ended up dropping me off outside the botanical gardens when the hotel was inside somewhere. So there I was walking around in my mountain climbing outfit, covered in brambles and dirt (from falling as I was going down-its steep!), sunburned, smelling to high heaven. I finally asked someone where the hotel was and he said I had passed it. So I backtracked and made it right at dusk. My friends were sitting in a little cabana right by the ocean and it was wonderful. I sat down for a bit and we had cotton candy, then they asked if I wanted to take a shower (I smelled REALLY bad). The next day, Christmas day, we went to the beach, which was glorious. I had the BEST fish for lunch. It did not even need any seasoning it was so good and fresh, huge too. They serve it whole and we eat it with our hands (its easier that way I swear).

In the morning, Claire had texted me that she was coming down the mountain as well. I told her to come to Limbe. She made it the next morning. Right when she got there, we realized we did not have much money between the two of us, so we went to the atm. Of course it wasn't working. So I borrowed money from Louise to pay for the hotel and then we headed to the beach. We pooled our money between us and figured out we had enough to get to Douala where there are more atms. So after a nice morning at the beach and a dip in the ocean, we headed to the biggest city in Cameroon. We took a bush taxi. This is a small car, about the size of a geo or a toyota tercel. There were 6 passengers, 4 in back and 2 in the passenger seat. They were all adults of course. Needless to say, it was a tight fit back there. The worst part about these situations is where to put your arms. It usually ends up with some people putting their arms around the person next to them, leaning forward and putting their arms on their knees, or some type of layering effect with the arms in which the person whose arms are in back has trouble moving them people the other persons arms are resting on top of theirs. At one point in our voyage, the lady next to Claire said, “Why are you breathing like that, are you asthmatic or something?” and Claire responded in her sweet little voice, “No. I'm just really squished.”

Kribi

So 3 days after arriving on the beach, I fell very ill. It started with explosive diarrhea and then the fever came. I tried to get out of bed, but I would get nauseous after being up for a few minutes. I went to the hospital with a couple other people that were also sick. That's always fun here. I can never perform under pressure (stool sample), but I was diagnosed with malaria and dysentary. It was awful. I couldn't get out of bed for 2 ½ days. My head felt like it was going to explode. I sh*t my brains out for 3 days.
There was a festival going on at the time, so when we left the hospital (a Peace Corps driver drove us thankfully), we drove into a parade of drunk people that were none too happy to have us driving the wrong direction into their parade. There were some angry people pounding on the car.
And then of course while half of us were sick in bed, the other half got robbed at gun and machete point. No one was hurt seriously. It could have happened at any popular tourist city (minus the machetes maybe).