(no subject)
OK, it's been a long time sine I've updated. Here's the haps!
Life's been a little difficult lately. I've been pretty stressed out about finding a job, which has made me think seriously about coming home. It's not at all what I want to do--I have invested a lot of time and money here and I don't want to give up. I'm going to give it a little while longer before I make any decisions though. I still haven't heard back from the embassy, and though I've dropped my CV all over, I haven't gotten any responses. Ben went to Douala for a few days with his brother, so I took the extra time to make an extra effort to see a few more people. On Monday I went to the Hilton. I also went to see my friend Forrest, who works at Score. Score is a large, Western-style grocery store that all the rich people and expats shop at. I forgot he knew all of them, and he offered to talk to some of them, so maybe something will come of that.
Tuesday, Plan International celebrated its 10th anniversary in Cameroon. I headed to the ceremony in hopes of making some contacts, which was semi-successful. There was all kinds of "speechifying" and children reciting poems and dancing, which was really cool. The best thing though was the exhibits they had, demonstrating their projects in Cameroon. The most interesting was that of the Baka pygmies, who live in the eastern province. There were examples of their artwork, including these little baskets made in the shape of an elephant and a pangolin (like a large lizard thingy). They were just the coolest things and I convinced them to sell them to me, even though they had been brought for exhibition. I had to wait until the end of the program, but I got them both for only ten bucks. They are really some amazing pieces of art, and I know tourists would love to buy them. Unfortunately, because infrastructure is so bad in the east, they don't really get a lot of tourists. I wish I had some business sense or some contacts to help them really sell them. I've never seen anything like them in the rest of Cameroon.
Being here is September for the first time is bringing all sorts of discoveries. First of all, the rainy season has really started. I now understand why the Dickinson program is in the spring. Instead of short showers, we get loooong downpours, which is really fun when you spend a lot of time tramping through the mud in unpaved areas. I was feeling sorry for myself, but then I saw a guy with a cane and realized that I don't have it so bad. I have no idea how handicapped people manage to get around. The rain also has brought some good times. While walking to the Hilton, I got caught in the downpour. I found shelter under this covered seating area that is used for parades. After waiting around a bit, I noticed a man with a beautiful, painted wood carving of a parrot. For those of you who have been to my house and seen mom's leaky-tiki room, you can understand why the parrot interested me. I finally decided he didn't look too much like he would hit on me and got up the nerve to talk to him. We ended up talking for about an hour while the rain continued about his business, his training, and how he decided to produce parrots. Again, beautiful artwork that I wish I could do something to help him earn a better living from.
September is also the "rentree scolaire"--the beginning of the school year. I'm still trying to get my head around the whole schooling system in Cameroon. When I was discussing with Coco (Ben's brother) about when he needed to be back, he told me he'd rather not even go to school the first week because they are just given machetes and told to cut the grass and tidy up the school yard. On the radio, I heard one school that only had 200 of its expected 800 students show up the first day. Teachers are often not even there for the first month--or even longer. It's hard to understand how anything gets done! Paying for school is also a HUGE burden. In theory, primary school is supposed to be free in Cameroon, but all kinds of PTA fees and other fees are made up, keeping kids away. Families often can't afford uniforms or the books necessary for classes. Secondary school can be ridiculously expensive for a Cameroonian family, especially when the child is in a testing year. That's what has happened with Ben's youngest brother this year. Though I know I am in a rough situation, I didn't know how I could let him not go to school, especially since he's kind of the hope of the family now, so I gave some money to help pay for his school. Coco, as it turns out, isn't going to go to school. Two times now he has failed the test he needs to go on to the next level, and they have decided that they really can't afford to keep sending him to school. It's heart breaking, because I know he really would like to go.
I think the concept of saving is still just in its primary stages in Cameroon. I would think that people would plan ahead, instead of having this mad rush in August to get the money needed. However, I think there is a real sense of immediacy here, because people don't know whether they will survive until tomorrow, let alone next year. Few people trust banks because money tends to disappear when put in there. And problems just come up--a large electricity bill, a hospital visit, family problems--so any money saved just gets blown. It's really terrible to see children being deprived of their education. There is a really bad crisis in the tea industry and workers haven't been paid in a ridiculously long time, so ALL of the children there aren't going to be able to go to school. I can't even imagine the extent of the problem.
There is some good news though. Every time I get really stressed, there is something that reminds me why I love it here. Lately, it's been the children. On the main road by my house, there are about 5 Muslim women who sell peanuts, and their small children run around and play. At first, they were terrified of me, and then we started becoming friendly. Now, whenever they see me, they run towards me screaming "Mama!" There is also my neighbor's daughter. When I first came in January, she was a tiny three month old. Now she is able to walk as long as she is holding onto something and knows who I am. I love it.
Life's been a little difficult lately. I've been pretty stressed out about finding a job, which has made me think seriously about coming home. It's not at all what I want to do--I have invested a lot of time and money here and I don't want to give up. I'm going to give it a little while longer before I make any decisions though. I still haven't heard back from the embassy, and though I've dropped my CV all over, I haven't gotten any responses. Ben went to Douala for a few days with his brother, so I took the extra time to make an extra effort to see a few more people. On Monday I went to the Hilton. I also went to see my friend Forrest, who works at Score. Score is a large, Western-style grocery store that all the rich people and expats shop at. I forgot he knew all of them, and he offered to talk to some of them, so maybe something will come of that.
Tuesday, Plan International celebrated its 10th anniversary in Cameroon. I headed to the ceremony in hopes of making some contacts, which was semi-successful. There was all kinds of "speechifying" and children reciting poems and dancing, which was really cool. The best thing though was the exhibits they had, demonstrating their projects in Cameroon. The most interesting was that of the Baka pygmies, who live in the eastern province. There were examples of their artwork, including these little baskets made in the shape of an elephant and a pangolin (like a large lizard thingy). They were just the coolest things and I convinced them to sell them to me, even though they had been brought for exhibition. I had to wait until the end of the program, but I got them both for only ten bucks. They are really some amazing pieces of art, and I know tourists would love to buy them. Unfortunately, because infrastructure is so bad in the east, they don't really get a lot of tourists. I wish I had some business sense or some contacts to help them really sell them. I've never seen anything like them in the rest of Cameroon.
Being here is September for the first time is bringing all sorts of discoveries. First of all, the rainy season has really started. I now understand why the Dickinson program is in the spring. Instead of short showers, we get loooong downpours, which is really fun when you spend a lot of time tramping through the mud in unpaved areas. I was feeling sorry for myself, but then I saw a guy with a cane and realized that I don't have it so bad. I have no idea how handicapped people manage to get around. The rain also has brought some good times. While walking to the Hilton, I got caught in the downpour. I found shelter under this covered seating area that is used for parades. After waiting around a bit, I noticed a man with a beautiful, painted wood carving of a parrot. For those of you who have been to my house and seen mom's leaky-tiki room, you can understand why the parrot interested me. I finally decided he didn't look too much like he would hit on me and got up the nerve to talk to him. We ended up talking for about an hour while the rain continued about his business, his training, and how he decided to produce parrots. Again, beautiful artwork that I wish I could do something to help him earn a better living from.
September is also the "rentree scolaire"--the beginning of the school year. I'm still trying to get my head around the whole schooling system in Cameroon. When I was discussing with Coco (Ben's brother) about when he needed to be back, he told me he'd rather not even go to school the first week because they are just given machetes and told to cut the grass and tidy up the school yard. On the radio, I heard one school that only had 200 of its expected 800 students show up the first day. Teachers are often not even there for the first month--or even longer. It's hard to understand how anything gets done! Paying for school is also a HUGE burden. In theory, primary school is supposed to be free in Cameroon, but all kinds of PTA fees and other fees are made up, keeping kids away. Families often can't afford uniforms or the books necessary for classes. Secondary school can be ridiculously expensive for a Cameroonian family, especially when the child is in a testing year. That's what has happened with Ben's youngest brother this year. Though I know I am in a rough situation, I didn't know how I could let him not go to school, especially since he's kind of the hope of the family now, so I gave some money to help pay for his school. Coco, as it turns out, isn't going to go to school. Two times now he has failed the test he needs to go on to the next level, and they have decided that they really can't afford to keep sending him to school. It's heart breaking, because I know he really would like to go.
I think the concept of saving is still just in its primary stages in Cameroon. I would think that people would plan ahead, instead of having this mad rush in August to get the money needed. However, I think there is a real sense of immediacy here, because people don't know whether they will survive until tomorrow, let alone next year. Few people trust banks because money tends to disappear when put in there. And problems just come up--a large electricity bill, a hospital visit, family problems--so any money saved just gets blown. It's really terrible to see children being deprived of their education. There is a really bad crisis in the tea industry and workers haven't been paid in a ridiculously long time, so ALL of the children there aren't going to be able to go to school. I can't even imagine the extent of the problem.
There is some good news though. Every time I get really stressed, there is something that reminds me why I love it here. Lately, it's been the children. On the main road by my house, there are about 5 Muslim women who sell peanuts, and their small children run around and play. At first, they were terrified of me, and then we started becoming friendly. Now, whenever they see me, they run towards me screaming "Mama!" There is also my neighbor's daughter. When I first came in January, she was a tiny three month old. Now she is able to walk as long as she is holding onto something and knows who I am. I love it.