(no subject)
Ben's birthday was excellent! A French friend was nice enough to let him celebrate at her apartment, so we spent the day cooking and preparing. He even got his first birthday cake ever! We all had a really good time.
Two weeks ago, a call from the orphanage director woke me up. I was terrified that one of the children who is often sick had died. My racing heart calmed me a bit when he told me that there was a group of Americans coming to visit. Once I got there, the group called and said it was actually the next week that they would be coming. So this Wednesday morning, I headed over there again. They were a church group and came with backpacks, school supplies, candy, toys, toothbrushes, toothpaste--all kinds of great stuff. Now, I'm not the biggest fan of missionary groups, and I was a little irritated when I said that I volunteered at the orphanage, and they all took that to mean I was on a mission too. I made it through all of their G-d talk, and I actually had a good time. I did a lot of translating and was able to convey to them what the children really need. They talked about sponsoring some children or doing some fundraising, which I got so excited and emotional about. It's really great when you can share something like that and other people are as touched as you are.
Yesterday, I went into town to run some errands. For the first time, someone actually stuck their hand into my pocket and got my ID card. Luckily I didn't have any money in there--Ben usually carries it for me for exactly that reason, and luckily my phone was stuffed far down. I felt pretty embarrased at the whole situation; I usually keep my hand in my pocket when walking through that area because I know how terrible the people can be there. After we had crossed the street and gotten kind of far away, some guy came running up with my card, demanding that I buy him a beer because he had "found" it. Ben went and took care of the problem, but it put me in a pretty bad mood. Afterwards, we headed to the immigration office. In April, I applied for and received Cameroonian residency, so I was given a temporary card that would expire in four months, though they assured me the real card would be ready in a month. Two months later, it still hadn't been made, but I knew that that is how things are here. So when I checked in yesterday, merely days before my temporary card expires...well, needless to say, it STILL hasn't been made! Let's just hope that if I get stopped by the police they want hassle me for having an expired card...
This morning I was watching the news on CRTV, the national, government controlled TV station. Yesterday, there was a demonstration of artists outside its gates, demanding to speak to the CRTV director because they had not been paid in over a year. The whole thing was a bit fishy--they hammered out some kind of deal, but never interviewed the director himself as to why they hadn't been paid in the first place. And worst of all, they said that the demonstration was ILLEGAL! So these people aren't being paid, and this is the only way they have to get the attention of the director, but they aren't even legally allowed to pursue that course. Huh.
Only in Cameroon: While walking down the street, I saw a blind man, feeling his way with a cane, wearing sunglasses and all. As I approached, he lowered his glasses, and said, "Salut, la jolie blanche" (hello, pretty white girl). He's got some pretty selective blindness.
Two weeks ago, a call from the orphanage director woke me up. I was terrified that one of the children who is often sick had died. My racing heart calmed me a bit when he told me that there was a group of Americans coming to visit. Once I got there, the group called and said it was actually the next week that they would be coming. So this Wednesday morning, I headed over there again. They were a church group and came with backpacks, school supplies, candy, toys, toothbrushes, toothpaste--all kinds of great stuff. Now, I'm not the biggest fan of missionary groups, and I was a little irritated when I said that I volunteered at the orphanage, and they all took that to mean I was on a mission too. I made it through all of their G-d talk, and I actually had a good time. I did a lot of translating and was able to convey to them what the children really need. They talked about sponsoring some children or doing some fundraising, which I got so excited and emotional about. It's really great when you can share something like that and other people are as touched as you are.
Yesterday, I went into town to run some errands. For the first time, someone actually stuck their hand into my pocket and got my ID card. Luckily I didn't have any money in there--Ben usually carries it for me for exactly that reason, and luckily my phone was stuffed far down. I felt pretty embarrased at the whole situation; I usually keep my hand in my pocket when walking through that area because I know how terrible the people can be there. After we had crossed the street and gotten kind of far away, some guy came running up with my card, demanding that I buy him a beer because he had "found" it. Ben went and took care of the problem, but it put me in a pretty bad mood. Afterwards, we headed to the immigration office. In April, I applied for and received Cameroonian residency, so I was given a temporary card that would expire in four months, though they assured me the real card would be ready in a month. Two months later, it still hadn't been made, but I knew that that is how things are here. So when I checked in yesterday, merely days before my temporary card expires...well, needless to say, it STILL hasn't been made! Let's just hope that if I get stopped by the police they want hassle me for having an expired card...
This morning I was watching the news on CRTV, the national, government controlled TV station. Yesterday, there was a demonstration of artists outside its gates, demanding to speak to the CRTV director because they had not been paid in over a year. The whole thing was a bit fishy--they hammered out some kind of deal, but never interviewed the director himself as to why they hadn't been paid in the first place. And worst of all, they said that the demonstration was ILLEGAL! So these people aren't being paid, and this is the only way they have to get the attention of the director, but they aren't even legally allowed to pursue that course. Huh.
Only in Cameroon: While walking down the street, I saw a blind man, feeling his way with a cane, wearing sunglasses and all. As I approached, he lowered his glasses, and said, "Salut, la jolie blanche" (hello, pretty white girl). He's got some pretty selective blindness.