tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466Wed, 13 Mar 2024 21:01:14 +0000Cameroon. Period.This website is not affiliated with the United States, the United States Peace Corps, or Cameroon. The opinions expressed on this site are those of the author. Thank you. P.S. I will write whatever I want to write, so leave me alone.noreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)Blogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-111856602317285320Sun, 12 Jun 2005 08:44:00 +00002008-11-28T16:51:16.992-08:00how can a tiny mosquito cause so much pain?I am a little more inspired than I was yesterday, so lets see if I can dish out some real substance in this entry.<br /><br />I spent the night vomiting. I had a fever. It continued into the morning. My bones ache, my head hurts, my stomach is twisted into knots. This could be my first bout with the legendary illness known as MALARIA! Quite frankly, I’m ecstatic about it. I think it’s comparable to surviving a gunshot. Sadly, Malaria leaves no scars, but my story will echo in the halls of eternity.<br /><br />SCHOOOOOOOL’S OUT FOR SUMMER! SCHOOOOOOOOL’S OUT FOR SUMMER! Hells yea. Professor Banick has some time off. That teaching 6 hours per week really took a toll on me. I’m going to spend the next three months, traveling, sitting under the mango tree, and just appreciating all the beauty and frustrations this marvelous country has to offer.<br /><br />My dear old friend Stan (80 yr old post mate) has decided his time in Cameroon is up. He will be ending his service and returning to the States next Friday. Its really sad to see him go, I’ve had a lot of good times with the guy, he may be the funniest and most clever SOB I’ve ever known. I’m happy for him, though, he knows its time to go, and he’s got three wonderful kids to be with in the States. Stan, Richard and I have spent countless evenings sipping gin, and playing scrabble at Stan’s mansion (by PC standards). Good bye old friend! There is a great picture of Richard, Stan and I (the Nanga-Eboko crew on Richards website, this was taken at Stan’s 80th b-day party, <a href=" here</a>)<br /><br />The volunteer group that arrived a year before me is gradually heading back to the states. A new group arrives next Saturday. The winds of change blow once again. Hard to believe, I’m just a year away from my return to reality. Occasionally I think about what I will do when I get back, a very commonly pondered topic among volunteers. My plan involves Hollywood, fame, and piles of money, which I will donate to Africa.<br /><br />Okay, that’s all for now. Stay healthy2005/06/how-can-tiny-mosquito-cause-so-much.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-111837986990823983Fri, 10 Jun 2005 04:52:00 +00002008-11-28T16:54:25.683-08:00this blog is losing steamOnce again, its been ages since I've updated. Remember the good ol' days of weekly updates?<br /><br />I guess it's only natural that my blog updating frequency should decrease since I havent had email access in my village for over 3 months. In fact I haven't had ELECTRICITY in my village for oever 2 months. I still write though. I write everyday in my journal. I think I will soon fill up all 500 pages in my journal. Not bad.2005/06/this-blog-is-losing-steam.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-110684007119181394Thu, 27 Jan 2005 15:32:00 +00002005-01-27T07:34:31.190-08:00Girl Urinates on my Porch <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Good Afternoon, Bon Soir, and Beum Beu Goré as they say here in Nanga Eboko.<span style=""> </span>I have started taking Ewondo (local language) lessons for which Peace Corps will reimburse me.<span style=""> </span>The lessons are given by neighbour, Achille.<span style=""> </span>When I leave this country I will be QUADRILINGUAL.<span style=""> </span>I can just imagine sitting through a job interview back in the states while the interviewer reads through my resumé:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“Oh, I see that you speak several languages.<span style=""> </span>French, okay…Spanish, uh huh…wait!<span style=""> </span>YOU SPEAK EWONDO!?<span style=""> </span>Mr. Banick, this is great, we have been looking for an Ewondo speaker.<span style=""> </span>Its such an important language in the world market.<span style=""> </span>PLEASE accept our offer.<span style=""> </span>How does 2 million per year sound?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“Full benefits?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“Of course, Mr. Banick, this is America.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“6 months vacation per year?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“Well, I don’t think that’s p-”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“Do you want an Ewondo speaker or not, buddy?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“yes, um, agreed, 6 months vacation.<span style=""> </span>So can we have you?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">“Ma di coupe.<span style=""> </span>That means I eat chicken, in ewondo.<span style=""> </span>And no, you cant have me, I cant stand working 6 months out of the year, that’s rediculous.<span style=""> </span>Good bye NTANGEN (White man)”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Ah, what an interview that will be.<span style=""> </span>Anyway, back to reality.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Yéyé, the little 3 year old who lives in the house behind mine came up to my door the other day.<span style=""> </span>She was just standing on my porch, seemingly doing nothing, with a completely uninterested look on her face.<span style=""> </span>When all of a sudden, she started to urinate on my door step.<span style=""> </span>She’s just standing there, urinating, on my doorstep, like its nothing.<span style=""> </span>I yell “Yéyé!<span style=""> </span>Qu’est que tu fait? (what are you doing?)”<span style=""> </span>She just stares at me, giving me this look like “what does it look like I’m doing white man?<span style=""> </span>A little privacy please!”<span style=""> </span>When she finished she just walked away, casually, like it was nothing.<span style=""> </span>Does she pee on everyone’s doorstep?<span style=""> </span>Is this a facet of Cameroonian Child Culture that I have yet to discover?<span style=""> </span>No, according to her 5 brothers, she just pees where she wants to.<span style=""> </span>So as I’m trying to clean it, my little cat (named black man) comes over to have a taste…just crazy I tell you, the things that can happen on my front porch.<span style=""> </span>Luckily I removed Black Man (my cat) from the puddle before he got to drink it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">The gender of my cat (named Black Man) has been determined.<span style=""> </span>White Man’s cat is indeed a male.<span style=""> </span>Black Man is a male.<span style=""> </span>Thanks for the gender determination tips GMA and GPA.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">I know, you are still waiting for pictures.<span style=""> </span>Here’s the deal:<span style=""> </span>I have no AA batteries for Camera at the moment and the one’s they sell here are too weak to power it.<span style=""> </span>I figure, since Blake will be here 2 weeks from today (WOOOHOOO, its about bloody time), and since he is a professional photographer with a full arsenal of high powered photographic weapons, I will let his pictures do the talking.<span style=""> </span>He is going to take MANY MANY MANY pictures of our grand adventures all over Cameroon, and they will all be posted.<span style=""> </span>You can count on that.<span style=""> </span>Please trust me here.<span style=""> </span>As long as Blake hasn’t screwed up his Visa Application, or lost his Yellow Fever Vaccination card, there should be no problems.<span style=""> </span>Please, don’t screw anything up buddy, please.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">What else.<span style=""> </span>Oh, I’m getting really good at carrying buckets of water.<span style=""> </span>Its becoming my daily workout.<span style=""> </span>Trekking down the old dirt path to the water source.<span style=""> </span>The best time to go is around 10 a.m. when kids are at school, otherwise the place is like Water world (the water park).<span style=""> </span>Children everywhere, waiting in line to get water, bathing, cleaning, having water fights, staring at me.<span style=""> </span>One of my buckets is labelled “Laundry” in black marker.<span style=""> </span>I was at the water source the other day when I overheard a little girl tell her friend “see, the white man’s name is ‘Laundry’, its written right there on the bucket.”<span style=""> </span>I had to clarify things for these confused little girls.<span style=""> </span>I can handle being called ‘white man’ all the time, but I will not be known as ‘Laundry.’<span style=""> </span>That is unacceptable.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Since my house is on the dirt road that leads to the high school, I am treated to a parade of gawking high school students everyday around 3pm as they walk home from school.<span style=""> </span>Some of them just stare at me.<span style=""> </span>Some of them make comments about me which I can hear (Either they think I don’t understand French, I am deaf, or they just don’t care).<span style=""> </span>I hear things like “look, the white man cleans his dishes.”<span style=""> </span>Or “I hear the white man keeps his cat INSIDE the house, like a child.”<span style=""> </span>Or, “who is this WHITE MAN?”<span style=""> </span>Sometimes they just yell “BLANC!” or “WHITE.” I tend to ignore or just stare back at everyone, except for the yellers.<span style=""> </span>I always talk to the yellers.<span style=""> </span>They say “WHITE!” and I say “BLACK! Come over here for a minute.”<span style=""> </span>They are usually a bit taken back by my demands, but they always end up coming over.<span style=""> </span>I give them a little lecture about me having a name, that it isn’t White, or Blanc, just as their name isn’t ‘black’ or ‘noir.’<span style=""> </span>They listen with open ears, and they are usually very good about calling me Allen every time they see me thereafter.<span style=""> </span>That is one of my Peace Corps projects, and it is quite a success.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">My other projects involve cleaning my house (a never ending process, the second I finish, the dishes somehow get dirty again, dust builds up again, and all the stuff I put away has found its way back to where it shouldn’t be.<span style=""> </span>I am a very messy neat freak.<span style=""> </span>My house is either a disaster area or it is immaculate.)<span style=""> </span>I also play a ton of SCRABBLE with my post mates Richard and Stan.<span style=""> </span>We play SCRABBLE all over town, usually at a bar in the company of a cold beer. <span style=""> </span>I also read a ton.<span style=""> </span>There is a great library on the University Campus where I will be teaching that Richard is working on organizing.<span style=""> </span>There is a whole selection of books in English and French, covering all subjects.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">I am really enjoying myself in Nanga Eboko.<span style=""> </span>I haven’t really started doing much ‘real peace corps work’ here, but I am quickly realizing that ‘real Peace Corps work’ is the stuff that isn’t ‘Real Peace Corps work.’<span style=""> </span>It really involves hanging out with the neighbours, knowing the culture, communicating, sharing ideas.<span style=""> </span>People are getting to know me and my culture, and I am getting to know them and their culture.<span style=""> </span>It’s a great exchange and I am learning a lot from it just as they are.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">I have IST (In Service Training) week after next.<span style=""> </span>I will be at a hotel for a week, and rumor has it, they will be showing the super bowl there, and there is a swimming pool.<span style=""> </span>That will be FANTASTIC.<span style=""> </span>Five days later, its HELLO BLAKE NOLAN.<span style=""> </span>For the next month after that, it’s the craziest adventure ever embarked upon.<span style=""> </span>You will read and see all about it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">PEACE <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> 2005/01/girl-urinates-on-my-porch.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-110570258477530444Fri, 14 Jan 2005 11:00:00 +00002005-01-14T03:36:24.776-08:00My life in the dustWhats happenin people,
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<br />Its been a while, you look older, as do I. I am a bit dusty after the long journey to the Peace Corps office from my dusty old cow town. Before I wash up, let me update this blog, it been a while.
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<br />I may have stated this before, but the trip from my town, Nanga Eboko, to the capital, Yaounde, is done in old beat up prison buses. These things were built by the french sometime in the 60's and they are now used to cover the 150 or so mile stretch of dirt road from my town to the city. The road is dusty and treachorous, very dangerous. The beat up old vans speed around corners at high speeds swirving around herds of cattle and lumber trucks. I always tie a hankerchief around my face to avoid inhaling the massive amounts of dust that fly in the windows. Its the dry season here and that means dust and heat like its nodbody's business. On my way here I was treated to two blown out tires, which is an average day on the road. It took about 5 hours this time. If this trip were done on an American highway, it would probably take about 1.5 hours, no kidding. The amazing thing is that these beat up old buses actually still work. They are never really inspected before they go anywhere, they are just fixed when something breaks, and something always breaks. Luckily there is always a teenager on the bus whose only job is to fix stuff and he is usually pretty good.
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<br />Anyway, besides the travel, my new post is FANTASTIC. My house is pretty much set up now. I had a local guy make me all kinds of furniture, I painted the walls sky blue, I painted a mural of a pacific ocean sunset on one of my walls (I miss the ocean soooooo much, even though I havent lived by the ocean in 10 years). I got a little cat who I named BLACK. The cat is actually black and white and grey, but I named it BLACK because everyone in town calls me WHITE. Its name is really "Evindi" which means black in the local language. I am called "ntangen" which means white. So now all the little kids in my neighborhood run around screaming "evindi" looking for my cat. I call the cat "it" because I dont really know if it is a "he" or a "she" The gender of the cat is TBD. When I find out I will get it SPAYED/NEUTERED because I dont want my cat sleeping around, thats not cool. My cat is very nice. Sometimes it thinks its a dog, it licks my hands and it comes running to me when i whistle.
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<br />I take a bucket bath once a day to keep myself so fresh and so clean. In exactly FOUR WEEKS I will be teaching BLAKE NOLAN how to take a bucket bath. Blake is from L.A., I think this bucket bath business might be a little intimidating for such a pretty boy, hahahaha, he has NO IDEA what is coming.
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<br />My neighbors are all very friendly. The guy across the dirt road from me is my best friend in town. He takes care of everything. He spends his days sitting outside of his house making clothes, yes, he is a taylor. he uses an ancient sewing machine and a REALLY OLD iron that is heated by COALS. Yeah, he puts hot coals insde the iron, and IT WORKS. Straight out of 1870. John also takes care of my cat when I leave, he washes my clothes and he scrubs my floors (dont worry, I pay him well). I like to go out for beers with John, everyone in town knows this guy, it makes me feel cool and not so white.
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<br />I bought a t-shirt the other day that says "CRACKER" on the front, I wear it everywhere. Nobody really understands it here, but I think its hilarious. The second hand t-shirts you can buy here are great, and they only cost about a dollar. I got another one that says "Porn Star" Again, people dont understand it here, but as long as I am entertained!
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<br />I have started tutoring students in English. I havent started teaching at the high school, I wont start until the third trimester which starts in March. But get this, how does "Professor Allen Banick the Third" sound? Thats right peole, I have been contacted by the local UNIVERSITY to teach english. I havent accepted the offer yet, but they have offered me a very lucrative deal which includes: access to the internet cafe and to a cafeteria which serves large portions of not-so-good food at excellent prices. Hard to resist! I will let you know.
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<br />What else? I like kids, and thats good because there is a constant flow of children in and out of my little house. They are very easy to entertain, I must say. they come in and play with my can opener, my nail clippers, and they read through my newsweek magazines. In exchange for my kindness, they get me water from the well, they clean my shoes, and they fetch me beer at the store. its quite an arrangement I tell you.
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<br />All in all, my life in dusty old Nanga Eboko beats my life in Bafoussam, although I do miss my friends and tennis in bafoussam. I am quickly making new friends in Nanga and I have two outstanding postmates (Richard and Stan) with whom I play many exciting games of scrabble. Scrabble has become a favorite passtime for me, African nights in the village would be a little boring without it.
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<br />Its been a while since my trip to the beach, which was one of the most relaxing weeks I've enjoyed in a LONG TIME. I spent most of the time with Jen, laying in the sand, eating fish and shrimp, drinking expensive beer (prices go up by the beach), and doing nothing. I want to buy property on the coast here before I go. Apparently you can purchase beautiful beachfront property for a whopping 1000 dollars an acre in some areas. yeah thats right. If anyone is interested in investing, let me know.
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<br />For those of you who have sent me packages, I have some news. I still havent received any packages and I just found out that all mail is being held up in the port city of Douala due to some postal strike or something. this is good news really because it means the mail isnt lost and that I MAY ONE DAY SEE IT.
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<br />Thats all for now. I will be updating more frequently, especially after BLAKES VISIT! WHOOOHOOOO, BLAKE NOLAN come on down. Yeeeeeeahh.
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<br />Peace
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<br />2005/01/my-life-in-dust.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-110465759754461796Sat, 25 Dec 2004 09:13:00 +00002005-01-02T01:19:57.543-08:00Happy Holidays Folks(This blog entry was formerly in the form of a mass email to all my family and friends...)
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<br />Ho Ho Ho
<br />I can't believe that time of year is already upon us again. I look outside and nothing is different. It's still hot, the palm trees still have leaves (do palm trees have leaves?), the shopping malls are the same as they always are (non existant), and life is good.
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<br />Here's wishing you a happy holiday season from the armpit of Africa. I know some of you have been expecting emails from me for a while, others dont care to read this email, and others are pissed because I havent been updating my blog.
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<br />I have been quite busy here in the past month or so. It all started with me switching posts and moving from the dirtiest loudest most aggressive city in the world, to one of the dustiest, quietest, most peaceful little towns in the world. This is one of the better decisions I've made in my life as I am a thousand times happier now. Starting in January I get to work with kids, tutoring them in English and possibly taking on teaching high school english classes. This is a daunting task consdering class sizes range from 80 to 120 students. I look forward to the challenge and it will be a great relief from sitting in corrupt banks preteding I know what im doing. My new town is called NANGA EBOKO (no relation to EBOLA VIRUS). I still have my cell phone for those of you who care to call. Unfortunately internet access may be more rare for me, so those blog updates may not come as often as i would like them to.
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<br />For Christmas I am heading down to see my host family with whom I lived for my 2 months of training when I first got here. I look forward to it, apparently the beer and food and festivities and family will be plentiful. I do miss the holiday season in the states, where I would normally be watching Bronco games with my Dad and going to Reno to visit my lovely sisters. Not to worry, I get to do all that good stuff again in '06.
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<br />For New Years, if any of you are cold, you can think of me, as I will be spending 5 nights in the beachside resort of Kribi Cameroon. White sandy beaches, cold beer, warm water, and a new years buffet. I will be accompanied by a lovely young lady named Jen. I am tanned already, I will be a true african after this trip. Then its back to NANGA EBOKO to teach. Then I only have to wait a month for my bEST BUDDY BLAKE NOLAN to come on down to the armpit for a month of exciting adventures roaming this chaotic country.
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<br />MERRY CHISTMAS, HAPPY CHANNUKAH, HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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<br />Love Al, Allen, Abay, Mr. Banick, Alain, etc.
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<br />2004/12/happy-holidays-folks.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-110216356647451837Sat, 04 Dec 2004 11:47:00 +00002004-12-10T06:03:33.140-08:00finally a moment of peaceIts been a very very long time. Even since I teased everyone with my last entry.
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<br />Let me explain myself because I can. Actually, we'll just start this off at the beginning. Rewind back to Thursday, November 18th 2004. This is where is all began.
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<br />I was in Bafoussam, feeling sick as I had been for the past month. Sore throat, coughing, sneezing, itchy eyes, typical allergy symptoms. This is really nothing to complain about, but since it had been a month straight of constant fatigue and overall feeling like crap, and since the doctor in Bafoussam didnt do anything helpful, I decided to take a trip down to Yaounde to see the peace corps doctor here.
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<br />On the long bush taxi rides, one has plenty of time to think, especially when there isn't anyone trying to sell you herbal miracle cure all medecine. As the man seated next to me started to nod off and rest his head on my shoulder (acceptable here, in fact you cant really get away from it), about an hour into the trip, I started to realize some things. I realized that I was getting very tired of Bafoussam, very quickly. I realized that I didn't come to the Peace Corps to play tennis which is what I was doing 5 times a week. I realized how happy I was everytime I got to leave Bafoussam to spend time in a village. I realized how much I like the peace and quiet and clean air as opposed to the constant rumble of diesel engines and all the wonderful smells they create. I realized I really hate sitting in an office without any real purpose. I realized there is no use wasting my time here if I am the least bit unhappy. I realized that I really like Cameroon, the people, and my potential contribution to development here. I realized I wanted a change of scenery. I only get this one opportunity in my life to really live a rural african lifestyle, so why not take advantage of it. Quite frankly, when you remove all the awkward scenery, life in bafoussam wasnt much different than life in any american city (granted its actually very different, but playing tennis and surfing the internet can be done in any american city).
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<br />When I arrived in yaounde, I spoke to my program director who was very supportive of my decision and he said he would begin to search for a new post for me. He said it wouldnt take longer than a few weeks to get this thing done. I also visited the peace corps doctor while in town, she gave me claritin and my allergies dissappeared. All of a sudden I was feeling great, full of hope and optimistic, free of allergies.
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<br />Now it's Saturday November 20th. I decided to visit my friend jen before heading back to post in Bafoussam. Jen doesnt live far from Yaounde and her village is especially small and remote. What was supposed to be a 1 day visit, turned into a 5 day visit. I had a great time experiencing more of "the simple life." Many things happened in this village while I was there. I met a bunch of cute little kids who love candy. I gave them lots of candy which is bad for Jen because they now expect a bunch of candy for doing nothing. she usually makes them fetch water from the well to earn the candy. I also attended a few of the classes she teaches, as she is a TEFL volunteer (english teacher). I had a great time in the classes and the experience made me want to try out teaching for myself (the pieces are all coming together). She let me teach one of her classes. I had no lesson plan, so I resorted to teaching the (clean) lyrics to "Ain't nothin' but a G thang" by snoop dogg and dr. dre.
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<br />1 2 3 and to the 4
<br />snoop doggy dogg and dr dre.
<br />is at the door
<br />ready to make an entrance
<br />so back on up
<br />etc...
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<br />It went over pretty well. By the end of class I had all 25 students standing, rapping, and waving their arms like they just dont care. I asked myself "what in the hell am I doing working in a bank?" I realized my calling in the world.
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<br />Another thing happened at jen's. A baby was born. My first son. Yeah, a lot can happen in a week. Jen is very close to the baby's parents (she's close to everyone in the village for that matter), and they wanted to name the baby after her. Unfortunately the baby turned out to be a boy. Since I happened to be with Jen when we walked into the house to visit the newborn baby, they decided it was only right to name him after me. Allen Jean something something is a healthy little newborn and I am proud to be his "godfather." the scary part is that the whole family thinks that I am going to take this kid back to the states and provide for him. I have some explaining to do upon my return to that village! I did offer him diapers, a little sweater, and some other baby stuff that jen picked out. I cant wait to teach him how to play baseball and take him fishing and camping and stuff...
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<br />Okay, time is running low...
<br />After all that I went to this town called Nanga Eboko for Thanksgiving. A bunch of volunteers got together there and we had a wonderful TURKEY dinner (slaughtered the day before by our friends). I also spoke to a fellow volunteer who is posted in this small town who happened to be moving to a new town for various reasons. I saw her soon to be vacant house in the quaint quiet vollage, and I fell in love with the place. It is such a change from dirty smelly bafoussam. The town is small and reminiscent of the wild west, dusty, run down, saloons, you name it. I live in a little neighborhood with many children and a well where I fetch water (or send kids to fetch water). I love the place and I love the peace and quiet, this is the peace corps I expected. The trip to Nanga from Yaounde, the capital takes four hours. It is done in VERY OLD BEAT UP 4x4 mini buses, it is completely unpaved, the buses break down EVERY TIME (a tire blew out on my last trip). Needless to say, getting there is a pain in the arse, but it is well worth the struggle.
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<br />So I have been there a week now. I still have cellphone service (so you can call me) and there is an internet connection at the university where two of my fellow volunteers are working. I should be able to keep updating this blog at least every two weeks (not as frequently as in Bafoussam where I was surrounded by internet cafes). I wont be able to play tennis anymore :( But I wont risk my life everyday getting hit by cars :) You win some you lose some, but in this case I win more than I lose.
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<br />I will take pictures, I will post them, I will write more about my post, I promise. For now, I can tease you with this <a href=" picture </a>of my new house.
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<br />Time is out,
<br />gotta run. Thanks for your patience this time, I know its been forever!
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<br />A bientot!
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<br />2004/12/finally-moment-of-peace.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-110165551851423239Sun, 28 Nov 2004 15:13:00 +00002004-11-28T07:25:18.513-08:00preview of upcoming entryIts been a long CRAZY time since my last entry.
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<br />I dont feel like writing now because the crazyness has yet to end. It should be all settled by tuesday.
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<br />Here's a little preview:
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<br />Cameroonian baby is born, I am chosen as his God-father (and his parents name him after me which means he is Allen the 4th and I dont have to name my first son Allen!).
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<br />Tales from a week spent in the village of all villages
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<br />My first experience teaching (involved me teaching and performing a song by Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre to a class of 10th grade Cameroonian village kids)
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<br />Watching a mob of people attack some guy, police pull out guns.
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<br />Catching a man in the act of pick pocketing me at a train station, screaming at him, and then watching him get attacked by security guards.
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<br />Getting scammed for 5000 francs (10 bucks)
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<br />Riding in a Cameroonian train.
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<br />Thanksgiving CAMEROONIAN style
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<br />and last but not least A MAJOR CHANGE IS TAKING PLACE for me (details to come)...
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<br />Stay tuned
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<br />2004/11/preview-of-upcoming-entry.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-110059595639522534Tue, 16 Nov 2004 09:54:00 +00002004-11-16T01:05:56.396-08:00Adventures in a Far Away LandI went to FOUMBAN today.
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<br />You ask “What is FOUMBAN? And who cares if you went there?” “Well,” I say, “FOUMBAN is a place, 50 miles north of Bafoussam. And I’ll tell you why my going there is a big deal, just relax, OK?”
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<br />Yeah folks, I went to FOUMBAN. Let it be known that on November 15th, 2004, I went to FOUMBAN. I’ll tell you about this fascinating destination in a moment. But I want to give you a little background information first.
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<br />The day started like any other Monday in Bafoussam. I woke up. I ate some eggs. I drank some coffee. I listened to the radio. At about 8:00 am, Pat and I left the apartment for our 7:30 meeting which usually starts at 9:00. So, as usual, we left a half an hour late for our meeting, which would get us to work 45 minutes early for that same meeting. We are such overachievers, always a half an hour late for meetings that start an hour and a half late. Cameroon.
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<br />And, like 3 out of 4 Mondays per month, this particular weekly meeting never happened. Our “counterparts” didn’t show up, as usual, and we sat around. I distracted myself for about an hour with a funny book. At about 9:30 we decided to leave. On our way out, the secretary said that they probably wouldn’t show up today. THANKS for the info.
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<br />With nothing else to do, I went to the internet café, a typical Monday morning destination. After that, since I still had nothing else to do, I went to “Sweet Home,” my favorite little neighborhood restaurant. At Sweet Home, they never serve what’s on the menu, but there is always something to eat. Pat and I are regulars there. If we are too lazy to cook and don’t feel like taking our chances with street food, we go to Sweet Home. In the morning, you can eat omelets there, for lunch you can usually get rice, tomato sauce, lukewarm chicken, soggy green stuff, and if you’re lucky, white beans. In the evening, you’re lucky if you can get rice and tomato sauce. Sweet home is the ONLY restaurant that we know of in Bafoussam that consistently has food. In Cameroon, there are many places with signs that say “restaurant,” but nine times out of ten they don’t serve food. The signs are probably left over from a better era in Cameroon when they actually had tourists to fill the restaurants.
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<br />After eating my second breakfast (it’s always a good idea to have two breakfasts because you never know if you will be able to find lunch, unless you go to Sweet Home), I went home. On the 1.5-mile walk from Sweet Home to the apartment, you always pass by the “Foumban boys.” The Foumban boys are a group of men that harass people into going to Foumban. “Why would they do that?” you ask. Well, let me explain how travel works here, in Cameroon.
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<br />In Cameroon, you travel by “Bush Taxi.” I’ve explained what these Bush Taxis are in previous blog entries (dirty old beat up 15 passenger vans that are stuffed with 25 people). In large cities, such as Bafoussam, there are several “Gare Routieres” (literally, “Road Stations,”). These are departure places for the Bush Taxis. There are different Gare Routieres for different destinations. The Gare Routiere for Foumban and everything North of Bafoussam happens to be down the road from my apartment. At each Gare Routiere, there is a group of men (like the Foumban boys) who fight each other to win customers for the particular travel company they represent. These guys can get pretty aggressive, their competitive spirit often brings them to the brink of all out brawls. I have yet to see them fight, though. In Cameroon, people often seem like they are about to start throwing punches, but they don’t, and five minutes later they are laughing and buying each other beer. These men also like to GRAB your luggage right out of your hand. They fight each other to be the first to GRAB your luggage . I don’t particularly like this luggage grabbing business. On one particular journey to Yaounde, I was forced to bust out a Judo move I learned when I was 11. One of the luggage grabbers wouldn’t let go of my backpack, so I stuck my long leg out behind him, and tripped him, Judo style. He fell backwards onto the pavement and released my bag. Onlookers laughed. I turned away and took my bag to a company OTHER than the one represented by the rude baggage grabber looking up at me from the pavement. Anyway, back to the Foumban story…
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<br />So, on my way home from Sweet Home today, I passed the “Foumban Boys” who yell “FOUMBAN?!?! FOUMBAN?!?!” to everyone who happens to pass by. As I passed them, I thought to myself, “today would be a perfect day to give in to these people and go to FOUMBAN.” I figured, “why not see what all the commotion is about?” So the plan was to go home, read a little more out of my funny little book, and then head off to FOUMBAN at around noon. Theoretically, it only takes an hour to get to Foumban. Leaving at noon would have me there by 1:00 with plenty of time to see all the wonderful things the town has to offer.
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<br />I went home, read for a while, and then I fell asleep. I didn’t wake up till 12:50, which had me behind schedule already, but I didn’t really expect to leave at 12:00 anyway. At 1:00, I packed my backpack with:
<br />A bottle of water
<br />A funny little book
<br />My CD player
<br />A notebook to take notes about Foumban in.
<br />And some cash to get to Foumban
<br />I left the apartment with a great attitude. “How exciting,” I thought “I’m finally going to Foumban.” I was relieved to be getting out of the sewer of a city I live in to experience the unknown treasures of a faraway land.
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<br />I scurried down the street to locate my favorite of “the Foumban boys.” He is my favorite because he is one of the few that knows I live in Bafoussam and that I don’t want to go to Foumban (usually). On most days, instead of grabbing my arm to shove me in the next van headed to Foumban, he shakes my hand and gives me “the snap.” (The snap is the Cameroonian “you’re cool” handshake. It is a classic handshake followed by a snap of the opposing index fingers. Everyone does it. If you don’t know it, you’re not cool.) I figured I would go make my favorite of the Foumban boys happy today by actually going to Foumban for once (the Foumban boys get paid to find passengers). My friend didn’t seem as excited as I thought he would be. Instead of shoving me into the next van to Foumban, he dragged me down the street to a van that didn’t fill up for 2 hours.
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<br />2 hours later, I left for Foumban. I literally sat in a hot, sweaty, dirty, smelly van across the street from my apartment for two hours.
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<br />I was a little frustrated at this point. I know travel in Cameroon is difficult, but I figured this little trip to Foumban would be a walk in the park (pun intended). I mean, it seems like this whole city is going to Foumban judging from the amount of harassment we get on a daily basis from the Foumban boys. I guess I was wrong.
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<br />I arrived in Foumban at 4:00 pm. This is bad because I wanted to leave Foumban at 5:00 to be home before dark. It is unsafe to travel in Cameroon after dark. Actually, its unsafe to travel in Cameroon period, its especially unsafe after dark.
<br />I had fantastic plans to visit the “Sultans Palace” (a supposedly, magnificent palace, home to the king or sultan of the “bamoun” people, the local tribe in the Foumban area). Unfortunately, it was too late for any such visit. I will see the Palace on my next visit. Instead of visiting the Sultans Palace, I visited one of the local “beverage stations.” They serve the same beverages they serve everywhere else in Cameroon, but for some reason they tasted better in Foumban. I also sampled some of the local “Soya.” Soya is Cameroonian bar-b-cued meat. It is usually quite good, but in Foumban it was AMAZING. Delicious, tender, strips of beef. Great qualiy and quantity. In Bafoussam, you get the quality, but the quantity is enough to feed a baby. Foumban has Soya, and plenty of it, mmmmmmm. After the Soya, I motioned for one of the children selling food to come over. This little kid was carrying “beignets” on his little head. “Beignets” are fried dough. Very greasy, unsweetened donuts, basically. Delicious. The little kid was happy to sell to me.
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<br />I must say, I was immediately fascinated by the beauty of Foumban. It is clean. It has pine trees. The people are friendly. The streets are paved. Just a great little town. The kind of place to settle down and raise your kids in, you know? I will have to come back to Foumban one day. I have to see that Palace.
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<br />I returned to Bafoussam with a full stomach and a tired body. It only took about an hour for the van to fill this time. I had to travel in the dark, but I survived. I am now here, back in my lovely apartment, writing this.
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<br />tomorrow is Tuesday. What kinds of adventures await me tomorrow? Will I venture towards another far away land? Will I play tennis? Will I WORK? Only time will tell. Peace Corps Cameroon is an unpredictable day-to-day adventure, full of surprises. 2004/11/adventures-in-far-away-land.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-109982851558160571Sun, 07 Nov 2004 11:47:00 +00002004-11-07T03:55:15.580-08:00'Tis the season for dyingI had a pretty long blog entry written out, but I have erased it. It was written on Monday, November 1st, it had something to do with my hopes for the election, my optimism for the outcome, but that is all forgotten now. Remind me not be so optimistic next time. I wrote a brief little comment about the elections as my previous blog entry. Its funny how that emotion has worn off so quickly. I felt those feelings immediately after it all happened, but those feelings have all but disappeared in me. In Africa I have other things to think about, I guess. I'm sure I'll get to deal with all the problems this new fundamentalist christian government has to offer as soon as I return home, I can't wait!
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<br />Today was a long, Cameroonian day. It was a cultural day. I attended the burial ceremony of the father of the director of the NGO I work with. I never knew the man who died, and I hardly know this director I speak of. That’s how it works here. You go to all kinds of ceremonies for people you don’t know. I think its funny to imagine doing the same thing in the states. Imagine just walking into a random funeral for someone you never knew. Funerals are a lot more exciting here, so I guess it makes a little more sense to do it here. I’ve known about this ceremony for about a week now, but I was not planning on attending. It wasn’t until yesterday (friday) that I changed my plans. Apparently everyone expected Pat and I to be there. In the words of our friend Guy, the manager of one of the banks we “work” with.
<br />“It is important that you attend this event. When the people in the village see that there are white men at the event they will realize that the director is an important man. The director will be very happy. You MUST attend.”
<br />Ok. I guess we are going.
<br />So that’s how the decision was made. I don’t regret going to this event by any means, I enjoy the cultural events and customs that I am fortunate to witness here. I just thought that the reasons for our attendance were interesting and funny. White men, who are these white men and why must they be so damn important? Personally, if I were Cameroonian, I wouldn’t view them as such. But I am glad they do because it makes me feel welcome almost everywhere I go. It can be a little overwhelming though. Sometimes I feel more like a decoration. Peace Corps volunteers are a bunch of fancy American decorations donated to developing countries to make their ceremonies look nicer and more important. That’s one way to look at it.
<br />Anyway, Pat and I were told to meet Guy at the bank at precisely 8am, no later. We arrived, precisely at 8am. I don’t think he expected us to be there on time because we didn’t leave the bank until 10am. We should know better by now, we really should. One two and a half-hour car ride, several u-turns, one flat tire, many dirt roads, one dead snake, and many village children later, we arrived at the site of the ceremony. I must say that this is the furthest into the Cameroonian countryside I have been thus far. It was strange, one minute we’re in the middle of nowhere, seemingly lost, the next minute we’re still in the middle of nowhere, except now, we are surrounded by a few hundred other people. The ceremony was rather brief by Cameroonian standards. Maybe it just seemed brief to us because we arrived a few hours late. We weren’t too late for the buffet and wine and beer, though. It was a good time after all. It took about two hours to get back. Four hours of travel for about three hours of ceremony. Not bad. The ride home was a little less planned. For the first leg of the journey, we shared a bus that was rented out by some rich drunk folk from the capital city. For the second leg, we rode in a BEAT UP station wagon of some sort. I had to share the front seat with Guy who is a big man. At some point during the ride home, the front seat we were sharing gave out. After enduring years of abuse this old seat decided to stop supporting Guy and I. The seat fell backwards slowly, and gently crushed Pat, who was sitting behind us. For some reason, Pat and I found this to be hilarious and we laughed pretty hard. The owner of the vehicle didn’t seem to care.
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<br />I am exhausted now, to say the least. It’s not like I did anything exhausting today, I think it’s all the travel that really gets to you in Cameroon. It’s always interesting, and the stimulation really wears on the body and mind. When fearing for your life, enjoying the strange scenery, sharing a broken front seat with a big person, and laughing your ass off at everything, your mind and body wear pretty quickly. Pat and I were invited to ANOTHER burial ceremony tonight in BANA. We are way too exhausted to embark on another three-hour car ride under the cover of darkness. NO WAY, PAS CE SOIR. Not tonight, maybe next time. People seem to be dying quite frequently this time of year, so I’m sure there will be another opportunity in the very near future to attend a ceremony.
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<br />Tomorrow, I may have the day to do nothing but read Hemmingway and play tennis. Man, that sounds really snobby and un-peace corps, but that's what Sundays are for, right? What a relief tomorrow will be.
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<br />I’ve been pretty tired and kind of sick lately. I’m allergic to something here, every morning I wake up with a stuffed nose, a sore throat and a bad attitude. The bad attitude goes away, but the nose and throat problem persists. Oh, well. As they say in Cameroon “Ashia.” Ashia means “oh, well” or “too bad” or “sorry about that” or “man, that really sucks” or “that’s life buddy, deal with it.” Ashia is great for Cameroon, it applies to many circumstances.
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<br />Here’s some incredibly good news (for me, at least): My best friend Blake Nolan is coming to visit! He is coming in February and I can’t tell you how excited I am about this, I’m losing sleep over it. Just so you all know: WE ARE GOING TO HAVE AN AMAZING TIME. I just hope we manage to stay out of trouble for the extent of his stay because we tend to get into trouble when we are together. If anything, we will boggle many people’s minds, which we tend to do no matter which armpit we find ourselves in. Blake also has a blog, and if you want something interesting to do in February, you should read both of our blogs, and compare. Africa: experienced simultaneously through the eyes and minds of two mind-boggling maniacs. Blake is going to take some pretty tiiiiiiiight pictures, too. You see, he is a photographer by trade, and he’s damn good at it too. Check out his blog: <a href="; target="_blank">; to see some pictures and read about his adventures in London. He is breaking into the photography scene, and he’s gonna make it. I’m proud of him.
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<br />Anyway, we will get to do all the crazy things that this country has to offer:
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<br />We will stay in 5 star resorts (peace corps volunteers houses, or whatever we can sleep on). We will cruise the streets in a pimped out, fully loaded ‘05 Escalade (a beat up ’87 Corolla taxi stuffed with 9 people). We will eat caviar and filet mignon (grilled fish and beef on a stick). We will drink copious amounts of Champagne (beer and what have you). We will mingle with celebrities (Cameroonian villagers), and play golf (apartment basketball), all in the company of Beautiful European Super Models (peace corps volunteers). Pretty nice, huh? But WAIT! That’s not all Bob! Blake will be treated to a complimentary six week supply of Mefloquine, to keep those sneaky little Malaria bugs from invading his liver and killing him! WOWZA! All I can say is, WATCH OUT! Seriously, though, this is going to be a great time. When that’s all over, I will be sad, but excited because in November of 2005, my pops will visit, stay tuned for details! I am very happy and very fortunate to be able to share this experience with a best friend and my dad. It will be interesting to see how they react to all the things I try so hard to write about. All I know is that neither of my visitors will EVER forget their experience here. It’s something else, it really is. Most volunteers don’t have friends and family with as much curiosity and bravery to experience Africa. Thanks Dad, thanks Blake.
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<br />We are well into November now. In a few weeks I will hit my six-month mark in Cameroon. That’s pretty strange to say. I’ve been in Africa for six months and already I feel somewhat normal here, as normal as a stranger from a strange land can feel here. Sometimes it seems like yesterday that I arrived and sometimes it seems like ages ago. I know I often make this same reference to time, but it really is strange. I have lost my American concept of time here. It’s not a day-to-day life here. It’s one long show. The days blend together. Years from now, when I am old and famous, I will look back at this time of my life and I will think “Wow, that was ONE LONG DAY. What a long day it was.”
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<br />I don’t know what to make of it all so far. I’ve learned something, I’ve grown somehow. I don’t know how yet. I probably won’t know how until I return to the States and I compare my Post-Cameroon behavior and attitude in the U.S. to my Pre-Cameroon behavior and attitude. I need that benchmark. There are going to be differences. What will they be?
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<br />I spent some time a few weeks ago reading through all of my previous blog entries. I certainly noticed a change in my outlook and my way of relating my experiences here. I feel more realistic about it all now, whatever that means. It certainly isn’t the fantasy world it was when I arrived. I’ve grown accustomed to the scenery, now I am noticing more of the details. Nothing here is as I expected it, nothing ever is, I guess. Reality is a little harsher than my imagination makes things out to be. That has been my biggest lesson thus far. Life is full of lessons, I hope to learn them all someday. Being here is teachiong me a fair share of lessons. I was still a kid when I left the States, and I will still be a kid when I get back, only I will be a really WISE kid.
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<br /> That’s all for now. Back to Hemmingway and Caviar. Tomorrow it’s tennis and Hemmingway, then on Monday it’s back to Peace Corps. The Show goes on.
<br />2004/11/tis-season-for-dying.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-109958627044854227Thu, 04 Nov 2004 15:59:00 +00002004-11-05T01:18:52.090-08:00Kerry loses, the world losesJohn Kerry lost. FEAR wins. What is wrong with my country?
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<br />I like being in Africa a little more now.
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<br />This isn't a politcal blog, so I will be brief.
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<br />Thank you to everyone who faught for change in the U.S. I have several friends there who worked campaigns from California to Florida. I'm sorry your efforts didn't quite payoff this time, but I am always hopeful for the future. Kerry would have been a change in the right direction, it didnt happen. It WILL happen next time, and the change will be a lot more drastic, it's got to be.
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<br />I've received many emails from friends, family, and people I dont even know expressing their disappointment. Hard to believe that these people represent a "minority" in the states.
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<br />Apparently God himself is now a resident in the White House. george said so himself. That's great, God has picked sides. Apparently he only cares about 51% of Americans. Apparently, He hates the rest of the world. One nation under God? With liberty and justice for all? COME ON PEOPLE!! When will the other 51% start to THINK?????????
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<br />I'm writing a more extensive, non political blog entry, and I will post it later this week. Just had to share my DISAPPOINTMENT.
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<br />2004/11/kerry-loses-world-loses.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Eye On the World)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7011466.post-109857236586652663Sat, 23 Oct 2004 22:53:00 +00002004-10-27T14:00:24.156-07:00Difficult times away from the Steaming Pile of...Hello hello. Good evening ladies. And gents.
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<br />First off. I have posted some new photos. Unfortunately some of my more recent photos are still in my camera which is Bafoussam which is stupid because it should be here with me for me to upload the photos. I hope these will satisfy you for the time being until I get more. There are pics of my friends in Bafoussam, my trip to Limbe (the beach), my host fam, and some random stuff. The link to the pics is at the end of the entry, you have to READ before you look at them!
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<br />I am in the capital city, Yaounde. The internet is free. Other than that, I miss BEAUTIFUL ugly smelly dirty Bafoussam.
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<br />Let me reminisce (I had to check the spelling for 'reminisce', it is indeed spelled R E M I N I S C E, don't believe me? <a href=" here</a>).
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<br />I am in Yaounde at the Peace Corps Headquarters. My 'official' reason for being here is "SED Steering Committee" which is the committee that designs, plans, and organizes the SED program. It's been interesting, but I don't really enjoy "committees" because I work better alone. And because I don't like to sit around and pay attention for extended periods of time. Despite this, I enjoyed these meetings. I've really enjoyed this FREE internet. I've been "chatting" with Blake (in london) on a daily basis. Fun, very fun. Blake has some EXCELLENT NEWS that you will soon hear about.
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<br />When I can't chat with Blake, I think of all my friends in Bafoussam, that I miss so dearly. I've never really written about them, so I will do that now.
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<br />Here are some of my friends from Bafoussam, click on their names to see a photo:
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<br />Name: <a href=";
<br />Tribe: Bamilike
<br />Languages: French, native language, and funny english
<br />Profession: Guitar player by night, street walkin beer drinker by day
<br />Hobbies: See profession
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<br />John