13/02/2012

13/02/2012

This post will be about the first two cultural events I got to witness.  A celebration of bilingual week and Youth Day.  Bilingual week is supposed to be a week signifying the importance of knowing both french and english in Cameroon because it was colonized by the French and the British.  Each year has a theme and this year’s theme was “Bilingualism for responsible citizenship.”  Jessica, the ED volunteer, had some of her kids perform a skit at the lycee bilang where she works.  Schools all over Cameroon celebrate this week doing things like debates, soccer games/ other sports, skits, songs, poems, faux news reports, and dances.  We only went to the celebration on Thursday at Jessica’s school, but there was also another celebration Friday at the place de fait. Usually clusters of schools will meet at one school to do whatever actives were planned.  There were three schools that met at Jessica’s school that Thursday.    

  It was scheduled to start at 8, but ended up commencing around 10.  All the student’s desks were put out for the audience (students), there were chairs for the officials in the front rows, and a judges table for 3 individuals.  I don’t know who they were.  I don’t know where to begin.  They commenced the celebration with the Cameroonian national anthem.  On the program it said they would sing it in french and english, but it ended up only being in French.  Students here have a deep lack of respect.  Once the events started no one got quite, maybe a couple of people.  People talked continually throughout the actives or yelled out things to derange the people performing.  The skits were consisted of messages of why it is important to know english.  The poems were usually about why education is important or had some kind of  religious message. The dances and songs dominated the schedule.  Most of the dances were pretty risqué too.  A lot of hip and chest movement, both with men and women.  It was bizzare to see teenage girls showing their backside to display how well they could move their hips after there was a poem about Jesus.  All of which was encouraged.  The  kids were cheering for these excellent dance skills.  Sometimes a girl would come down and get down right in front of the school officials.  Its all normal here, but I found it very bizarre.  I couldn’t follow the skits or most of the poems because all the students were just talking in their own world.  It seemed like a waste of time to me.  The faux news reports were all the same.  Each school had to perform the same one which was about 15 minutes, too long for the attention span of most of the kids.  We didn’t get to see Jessica’s skit because we had to leave at twelve for another meeting, but she didn’t mind.  She said her kids didn’t do that well anyway.  I’m missing quite a few details but this was a while ago and I really don’t have many positive things to say about bilingualism week.  The PC teachers I talk gave the same consensus that the students don’t really care about performing well.  Bilingualism week is kinda like “dead week” in college before finals.  Theres no school except for practicing for the celebration.

Now Youth Day.  Youth Day is supposed to be a celebration of the next generation of Cameroon.  This celebration was a lot bigger because schools from all surrounding villages of Batouri came out to march in a parade.  This parade was in front of the place de fait.  Another instance where things are supposed to start at one time, but usually run an hour late.  I forgot to mention what the place de fait is.  Thats an open structure that is just a place for officials to sit.  The schools/orgranizations spend an hour or two lining up and getting ready to march while the spectators line up on one side of the road.  The opposite side of the road from the place de fait so they don’t block the site of the officials.  There are 4 white lines on the main road, kinda like a track at the Olympics, so the people can walk in a straight line.  On the spectator side there are police and gendarmes with belts and batons to whip kids if they get too far into the road.  Not everyone from each school gets to march in the parade.  I don’t know the selection process.  On the other side, place de fait side, there are officials in suits making sure people march in lines which seems to be one of the most difficult tasks.  It was rare to see any school or organization match together in an organized fashion.  There were schools, muslim schools, nurse schools, teacher schools, organizations against rape, organizations against corruption, groups of people who looked like cheerleaders, one band, a private high school, a women’s group that Stephanie marched with, and many more.  The whole parade, once the marching started, was about an hour an a half.  As the groups pass the officials they turn their signs representing their club and hold out their left hand horizontally, kinda like a salute.  Each school or group was yelling out a song of some sort.  Some schools had their students with ribbons tied on the wrists of their left hand.  I couldn’t discover the significance of that.  Maybe just some flair.  The teachers who were marching with their students had on their flyest dresses with embroidery.  Between the teachers and the officials in suits kids were constantly being yelled at to be a certain position so they were aligned vertically and horizontally.  

Does anyone remember dragon sticks?  The things that were popular in the 90’s?  They were popular with the older kids at my day care.  I saw two guys with those in the parade.  There were also kids on the side lines yelling at the students marching deranging them.  Once the parade finishes the older groups or organizations go out and drink to celebrate Youth day.  Stephanie was invited out to go drink with her women’s group after the parade.  Drinking is a big part of Cameroonian culture, but these celebrations just give all the more reason to go out and drink.  

I’ll finish this with the main mode of transportation here, motos.  Motos are just motorcycles.  But the cheapest kind you can find from China.  They cost between 400.000 - 800.000, the average ones.  Theres no real “rules” for becoming a moto driver.  It seems like anyone can buy a moto, just post up somewhere, and wait for someone to ask for a ride.  I know in Beartoua, the regional capital, there is a certification that drivers must pass to get a green vest that shows they are “legit”  Some wear helmets but most don't.  Most moto trips cost 100 CFA, but sometimes 150 CFA at night.  I know in Batouri its always 100 CFA night or day because the town is so small are there are moto drivers everywhere.  Being white some moto drivers will try to ask for more money and give bogus reason why it cost more.  All you have to do it walk away because they won’t do anything.  I’m also impressed with what moto drivers can load up on their crappy bikes.  I’ve seen goats, pigs, 6 50 kilo sacs of cements, motos on the backs of motos, furniture sets, motos with 4 people including the driver, motos taking 4 kids under the age of 8 to school.  Motos with a guy dragging 4 meters of rebarb behind them.  I’ve seen motos carrying 6 crates of beer.  Africans make it work.  There is also a good chance your moto driver is drunk.  I’ve seen it multiple times where moto drivers are sipping on whiskey sachets.  No laws against that.  There is also no real age limit to drive motos.  I’ve seen muslim kids in Beartoua on motos who looked like they were 13.  Their feet could barley reach the ground when they were on the moto.  There is a good reason why PC requires its volunteers to wear helmets while on motos.  Moto drivers also pay to get like a custom leather covering for their gas tanks ans seats.  They also somtimes keep the bubble wrap over the parts of their motos to keep it clean as long as they can.  Decorating motos is also popular just to make theirs‘ stand out from others.  Flowers or little sticker pictures.  Not much more for now.  I’m about to meet my community host and counter part.  Toodles for now.                           

07/02/2012

07/02/2012

Its been a while and I have a lot to share, but I’ll start off with the random event that finished my day of work.  I just came back from meeting a potential counterpart with Steph and her host country hommie and we stopped at a bar to get some juice.  We were talking for a while and then a dispute broke out over something.  I think this dude had a tab and wasn't going to pay it.  He was very intoxicated and was a grown man.  He was arguing with a girl who looked to be 18 or something.  I heard a slap from outside the bar so I started to pay attention.  Then he started to grab her shirt and she grabbed his.  Thats how fights seem to go around here, from the ones I’ve seen.  Each person will grab each others’ shirt and hold their arms stiff and just kind swing each other around.  Then the dude grabbed her throat and I got up to separate them.  Other people in the bar just watch.  Thats another thing I’ve noticed.  Cameroonians usually don’t get involved until its escalated into a fight.  I got them separated and assumed the girl just left to get a way from him, but she ended up grabbing a bottle and trying to hit him in the face.  At that point I just left because other Cameroonians came in.  Then the guy started yelling at me and went crazy, throwing a tantrum like a child.  He’s yelling loud at everyone while taking his shirt off.  He threw his shirt on the ground picked up a glass and threw it at his head, but it bounced off and just broke on the ground.  Then he started crying and smashing his head on the metal door that closes the bar.  Thats when Ahmadou suggested we leave.  So we all left and he just kept yelling.  In Africa, at least in Batouri, no cops show up.  They have “jungle justice” here.  Jungle justice is if someone steals something from you and you yell out “vouluer! Vouler!” (Thief)  There is a high probability that people will hear that and then attack the thief.  Not just attack, but beat the life out of him.  It may be more applicable for Cameroonians or white people in large cities, but thats how things are taken care of out here.

Quite a bit has happened since I got over giardia and went to Beartoua for the regional meeting.  I got back to post at the beginning of February.  When I was walking through centre ville one day there was this old lady, probably drunk, who was just dancing in the middle of the street.  I think thats a cool freedom because no body cares and there are no police or gendarmes to take her away to the “sidewalk”.  People can just do that here.  Cameroonians atleast.  In centra ville any electronic shop blasts music on their speakers, all with different songs.  She was just getting down in the middle of the road.  Radom note: did y’all know Seth Rogan is in Donny Darko?  He’s the friend of the bully with the mullet?  I also saw 16 candles for the first time and noticed in the opening credits 2 high schoolers were holding pinkies.  Was the cool in the 80s?  It sure is cool here.  I hold hands with dudes all the time in market now.  Actually, 3 main dudes.  I think they are showing off that they are close enough to the white person in town to hold their hand.  Or maybe its just simply a sign of friendship.  I’ve also been told by my female post mates that Cameroonians ask where Sampson is.  “Ou est votre frere Sampson?”

Culture experience.  Lemme talk about bus rides.  I might have touched on it in a previous entry, but I’ll go in depth here.  I’ll use my last trip to Beartoua as an example.  I wake up at 6 am and grab my bag that I packed the night before and head over to the agency.  I get there and wait in line to buy my ticket.  There are 3 separate counters, but each counter sells tickets for 2 or 3 cities/villages only.  So I get in the line for Beartoua and Kenzou.  Lines also don’t really exist here.  People cut and its just part of the culture.  Cut anywhere.  At the bank, grocery store, buying credit for phones.  I dunno if its people trying to show how “macho” they are (males and females both do it).  So when I do get to the counter I say where I wanna go give my ID and money and she writes me a ticket with the bus license plate one it and a number.  We ride in old prison buses out here.  They use the prison buses Eastward from Beartoua, the regional capital.  They have another type of bus, I forget the name, but its not used much because it goes slower on the crappy dirt roads.  I also don’t remember the name of the company that makes the buses, its starts with an S, Sacam?  They put 5 people to each row, sometimes 6, and there are 5 rows.  No isle way.  A seat folds down to be an isle seat.  There is barley any leg room and the seats resemble the cushions of those cheap floding stadium seats you can bring to ball games.  Babies in laps and always an odorous person.  Odors don’t bother me.  Makes me more comfortable when I break wind.  There are usually 2 people from the agency who ride with each bus, the driver and then the “woker”.  The “worker” for the agency either stand behind the back row, stand on the back bumper outside the bus, or the stand on the top of the bus holding on to the straps that hold down all the luggage or goods that are strapped.  I’ll get to the top of the bus in a minute.  By “worker” I mean the person who changes the tires, opens the back door for ID checks, load and unload luggage, or work on the engine.  There are also 4 places in the cabin up front.  One for the driver and 3 for more passengers.  The engine is right under the middle seat of the cabin, so there is a lot of vibration and heat.  Lately whenever I sit in the back with everyone else an employee will tell me to move to the front for a cabin seat which is more comfortable.  It seems they only put white males and “grands” in the front.  White males because they made Stephanie stay in the back.  “Grands” are the important Muslims, the ones who have been in the game for a while and have the fliest boubou outfits.  I don’t mind because I barley have leg room in the back, but I don’t like to perpetuate the stereotype that the “white man” always gets a better seat.

Buses also don’t leave until they are completely full.  A bus may be scheduled to leave at 7, but may not leave until 8 because its not full.  Its more of a problem for afternoon departures.  So the top of the roof.  People are moving all sorts of products.  People go to regional capitals to buy products that smaller towns don't have, or to just get them cheaper.  They have any kind of animals, 50 kilo sacks of grains, rice, petrol, or gas bottles, ect.  Motos, and all sorts of bags.  The space that takes up the roof luggage rack is usually equivalent to what could be fit inside the bus.  Once everything is loaded up and everyones on we roll out.  Going out of and coming into cities we pass check points with gendarmes.  Gendarmes are like the “military” here.  Most all are corrupt.  The white people always have to show their IDs.  Sometimes its everyone.  If a Cameroonian doesn't have an ID they fold up a piece of paper with money in it and give it to the guard.  A small illustration of corruption.  The ride itself is pretty bumpy and very dusty.  Bumpy because of all the traffic from logging trucks.  There are some stretches of road that are like ruffles potato chips, some with big dips.  There is no left and right side.  There is usually one path that both directions take, and when two buses/cars are  traveling at the same time they just space out a bit but are about 2 feet within each other.  Going up hills is like 5 mph, and going down hill is pretty fast.  I don’t know exact speeds because I haven't been on a bus yet where the gauges work.  The buses will stop for people who just wanted to get to their small village along the way to the larger cities, or they stop if someone wants to buy something on the side of the road.  They just yell at the driver to stop, buy their food or whatever product, it gets thrown on top and then we continue.  Once people start leaving the bus for their village there are also people waiting by the side of the road to hitch a ride to the big city if there is room.  They usually get picked up, but sometimes the driver picks up too many people.  That was the case on our return trip to Batouri.  We were about 10 km out going up a hill and the bus just died.  I waited with Steph for a bit, but then decided to walk the rest of the way.  I have faith in Africans and their ability to jimmy rig anything, but I didn’t want to wait beyond the 30 minutes I already had.  The bus did get fixed and they picked me up 2 km outside of Batouri.  Another thing about the dust on bus drives is the African spray tan.  Everyone gets sooooo dusty.  Jersey shore tan.  You could take your fingernail and scrap off the dust and draw pictures in your face.  There are also signs in the bus that say “Throwing up, spitting, and talking to the driver are forbidden”.  Most of the tires have different patterns because they just put on what works.  Even the replacement tires on the roof of the bus are old and sometimes close to bald.  Another things is we usually have to take 2 breaks so the driver’s “worker” can add new water to the radiator so it doesn't over heat.  I believe most of the drivers are Muslim so they don’t drink, or shouldn’t.  I’ve  heard from people in the North and Extreme North that the Muslims drink, just in private.  Its only 100 km from Beartoua, but our trip usually takes 3-4 hours.  On the bus people like their music.  There are usually 3 people who are playing their own music on their telephone for everyone to enjoy.  A lot of Rhianaa.  Buses honk when there are people on the road walking from village to village so they step off a bit as to not get hit.  Its usually people who went out collecting wood or are bringing back clothes after washing in the river.  I really am impressed with the durability of these buses.  These are also jus the small buses.  There are large charter buses that go from Yaounde to Beartoua or other regional capitals.  PCV’s are told never to travel at night because of highway bandits.  We have a really solid human here in Batouri who runs the Alliance agence in Batouri.  He always makes sure we have a safe departure and return.  At least with our buses we don’t have the problems that are in the west with very diverse topography that makes traveling hard during the rainy season.  I’ll have to see what traveling it like during rainy season here.

Another thing I really appreciate about Cameroon is how most things can be custom made.  Security doors, furniture made out of solid wood, shoes/sandals, grills, shops.  I got some nice leather sandals made for 7.000.  I wanted some for my bou bou outfits.  I also got another pair made just to wear around because I get made fun of for wearing my “babouches” (shower shoes) all the time.  I do it to look poor, but they wear down pretty quickly.  But this other pair of sandals is too small.  Its cool with me, helps me bargain down the price.  The same people who custom make shoes fix shoes.  If anything detaches they resow it.  Or you can get your shoes reenforced before they break.  Thats like 500 CFA, just a dollar.  There are people with established stands and there are also people who travel around with their tool box looking for work.

I’ve also mentioned this before, most every product can be bargained.  Which I love because I’m frugal.  It really comes down to who has a better argument or puts in more time.  I also bargain down the price for my fish or tools from the hardware shop.  First of all, the original price given is much high just because I’m white.  So when they give me a price too high I just low ball them and explain I’ll give them a price too low since they think they can give me a price too high because of the color of my skin.  Sometimes the vendor just gives up and asks for the money I say I’ll pay.  Or I’ll make deals, like I get these plastic trash cans to make wine in and tell the dude to give me a good deal on them and I’ll give him the wine I make in them.  Two other good techniques is just walk away or say I’m going to another vendor.  Or it could go the other way and the vender just says leave.  Its all a game.  I Love it.  For more established stores, not boutiques, prices are set and cannot be bargained.  But established stores are weird.  You pick your products, go to a guy that write you a receipt, then take that receipt to another guy where you pay and get that receipt stamped.  Then another guy records the money received in a log book.  I’ve only seen computer systems in regional capitals.  

I’ll finish this entry with photos and how much Cameroonians‘ love photos.  There are always group photos of GICs or when any group of people meet up (organizations, friends, celebrations).  Developing photos is one thing, but there are also these photo studios.  They have both 35mm and digital.  Black and white or color.  In the studio there are these weird backgrounds.  Like waterfalls, jungles, egyptian pyramids, a fancy looking house with a Benz in the garage.  They also have flowers, chairs, and other accessories to accent your photo.  I decided I want to get head shots of PCVs that visit me or Cameroonian friends that I make here.  Silly pictures.  Good memories.  Things I can laugh at and reminisce about when I need a cane.  It only cost 500 CFA to get the photo taken and developed.  If you give the digital files of photos is 300 CFA to develop.  Cameroonian’s like photos of themselves.  When I was in PST there were a couple of the language teachers with pictures of themselves as the background on their computer.  I have also noticed in some houses of Cameroonians I’ve been invited to that they have pictures of themselves.  I dunno why.  Maybe they felt they looks super fly and want that to be a reminder to not loose it.  This is already a long entry.  I’ve got two cultural celebrations to write about that were both bizarre.  Bilingual week and Youth Day.  I’ve got pictures from both for fb, but I’ll write about that after I visit Mindourou.  Oh yea, I’m finally gonna visit where my community host lives.  I am blessed to have my post mate Janelle accompany me on this trip so nothing is lost in translation when I try to discover what work is actually possible in his village.  I leave this Sunday, the 12th.  Wow.  In about a month is will be IST.  Toodles for now. Du courage Americans.  I’ve heard how crazy some things are in America.  I’m glad to be in Africa except for the fact that my loved ones are across an ocean.