Homeward bound

So I'm leaving for the states in just a few short days. The study I completed is found here: NBoon_report-Ch1.pdf.

Already, based on my recommendations, Dschang's technical service has cleaned and is in the processes of switching out the filter media for their filtered spring capture systems. Even more importantly, they have undertaken the addition of sand filtration chambers to the Valleé spring, by far Dschang's most heavily contaminated drinking water source and also one of the most popular! These improvments have the potential of removing almost 1,000 cases of water borne illness from Dschang's annual water related health burden. I'll call that at least one positive measure of sucess!

Weeks 12, 13, 14, 15: Work in progress

Weeks 12, 13, 14, 15: Work in progress

The past few weeks have seen some significant and hard won movement for my research here at Dschang. At the behest of the mayor I’ve partnered with the city’s office of technical services to engage in the analysis of a number of recently constructed water sources here in Dschang. The newly constructed/improved sources include 7 wells, 6 boreholes, and a series of 9 spring capture systems with a piped network comprising ~29 standpipes. Using the Cameroonian Ministry of Water and Energy’s (MEE) estimate of 300 persons per public access point leads to a total population served of 12,600.

I’ve undertaken rotating sampling program where at least one component of each source is tested for coliform bacteria (indicative of fecal contamination and corollary to pathogenic virulence) every 2 weeks. In addition to this test for general potability, and second test (heterotrophic plate count) will be performed on the filtration components of the spring capture systems to assess treatment efficacy.

In addition this set of rustic water sources, I will be continuing my analysis of the SNEC treatment plants and piped network. Of the over 80,000 residents in Dschang proper, approximately 30% (~24,000) rely on the SNEC distribution network for their drinking water supplies. My initial analysis of the SNEC system reveals 100% removal of microorganisms indicative of fecal contamination. Though riverine source waters that supply the SNEC distribution system exhibit significant fecal contamination via high total coliform counts, water sampled at several points in the network (including my apartment!) has been contaminant free.

Of the 17 rustic water sources sampled so far over half have exhibited at least some level of contamination, with serious levels present in at least 4 sources. Preliminary analysis of the statistics I collected from local hospitals and clinics on water-borne disease reveals an estimate of 764 cases of water borne disease (typhoid fever, bacterial and amoebic dysentery, ascarsis) admitted in a given month. Such an immediate health effect demands immediate action.

Over the next few months I will continue to explore the possibility of developing point of use household filters after the Potters for Peace model (www.pottersforpeace.org), but will be shifting my primary efforts towards instituting a point of access solution by constructing biological slow sand filters after the www.BioSand.org model at the distribution points themselves. My hope is to engage with the International Water Project (www.WaterProject.org) who has a Cameroonian partner based in Yaoundé, the Cameroonian Life and Water Development Group (www.lwdgc.org). This group has been actively building these filters for rural households in the Northwest province and it is my intention to try and bring them here to Dschang.

Week 11: Neighborly doings

Saturday I experienced my first visits to the Centre Climatique’s celebrated pool and Dschang’s very own center for aquatic sport on the municipal lake. I got some great exercise swimming laps and learned first hand the difficulties inherent in kayaking’s famous barrel roll. The morning’s activity was highly satisfying, wrapping up with just the right amount of sunburn on my back and water up my nose.

Upon retiring with Antoine for lunch at a neighboring restaurant I found that my peace corp neighbor Kat was back at last and we made plans to meet up for drinks later that evening. The current batch of peace corp trainees had just graduated to volunteers, and Dschang was swarming with Americans. I finally met the other Dschang volunteer, Matt, a phd grad in chemistry and professor at the University, as well as a number of newly minted volunteers working here in the west. That evening we toasted their recent graduation to the enjoyment of all parties; French, American and Cameroonian included.

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…

Five days later, I’ve finally arranged to have a technician come and repair the Biology department’s incubator; at last reached positive turn in my interminable visa drama; installed a super sweet pull-up bar in my kitchen for less than 2 dollars; found a fantastic French press in a grocery store 2 blocks away after months of far more geographically diverse but nonetheless fruitless searching; lost a devastating series of Rummy 500 games to my newly returned neighbor, to the average tune of 100 points or more; witnessed a horrific moto accident involving convulsing bodies and torn scrotums; and have expanded my Cameroonian menu to include homemade egg rolls and faux-fettuccini alfredo under the impetus of collective effort.

It's been a good week.

Week 10: Small small catch monkey

Saturday saw the first day for Martiel to start working off his debt so my apartment was about as clean as it’s ever been. The day was spent transcribing elements from some maps at the University Geography department and reading through some older masters theses. Sunday maintained its position as a family day, filled with visits. After picking up Richard's samples from the University lab, Bertrand and I chewed the fat a bit before heading into the quartier to visit with the Nanas and take some pictures of the baby.

Monday I resumed my research efforts at the hospital Ad Lucem, collecting the first half of the available data while early Tuesday was spent finishing up the clinic Integre Fontehm. Emerging from the rather dingy clinic office I saw fit to take advantage of a beautiful day to explore the northern outskirts of Dschang with an eye out for public watering holes. I did make discoveries of a couple public wells installed by the city council, and hope to take advantage of Antoine’s municipal connections to look into their management program.

That evening Francois from the Sister’s hospital stopped by for a visit, further impressing me with just how nice a guy he really is. His situation brings to mind a somewhat novel application of the clichéd observation that “all the good ones are married.” I’m consistently finding that the Cameroonian men with whom I would most like to foster a friendship are married, with associated social habits not quite up to my bachelor’s schedule. Alas, I’m a single man living the married life with none of the companionship and all of the Saturday nights spent watching movies on the couch.

Nathan Spence came to visit on Wednesday, and together we passed a highly enjoyable day, complete with some cribbage at the evening’s close. In a highlight moment from my week, Spence informed me of a Cameroonian expression that translates to “small small catch monkey,” a local twist on Aesop’s “slowly but surely wins the race.” This has quickly become a personal favorite of Cameroonian phraseology, right up there with “ah footi nah,” (northern dialect for “who farted”).

Thursday I headed back to Bafoussam with Spence, though my style was somewhat cramped by the onset of a 24-hr bout of an all too common traveler’s discomfiture. Still, with a roll of TP in my pack and frequent pit-stops, we managed to take a small tour of the city, grabbing a pair of excellently priced speakers for my apartment and discovering that the head sister at the hospital had misquoted the price of an incubator to the tune of about 1000 US dollars, square one appears to be my home away from home as far as this incubator is concerned.

Friday was a day of reading and recuperation, though by evening I felt well enough to join my French comrade and his entourage for a drink, whereupon I shared my recent discovery of my new favorite phrase and learned that traditional Cameroonian folklore also has a moralistic tale involving the tortoise, though in this version the lesson learned is that the slow moving (interpreted as pompous) turtle gets the ax for his pains (I’m afraid the particulars escape me). Numerous toasts were made as were plans to spend the next day in pursuit of aquatic sport.

Week 9: Betrayal…and statistics!

Week 9: Betrayal…and statistics!

Week 9 started for me innocently enough. A less than notable weekend was marked only by the early return of Martiel from his aunt’s with a young cousin in tow. They visited with me briefly on Sunday, and we made plans to spend Monday together.

Monday morning we all met up together and set off to take a tour of Dschang’s health services, including a half dozen clinics and the district health center. My wingmen ran out of steam at our second stop (the cousin being 3 years old it was understandable), but I continued on through the bulk of the afternoon, arranging to meet with the chief district health officer and collecting statistics from the bulk of the clinics where available. Later that evening I got together for a drink with Alice, and met her fellow countryman Antoine, who works in a local government development capacity with the mayor’s office. He has promised to help me make some introductions to the municipal water works council.

Tuesday morning I discovered that Martiel had stolen half of my money while I was in the bathroom, and directly hightailed it to his Aunt’s house in the neighboring village of Kekem. Ouch. I took my suspicions to the Nana’s and set out in hot pursuit with Valerie at my side. At the end of the day, we returned with the culprit in hand, minus about half of the purloined funds. To make matters worse, it would seem that Martiel is not the only individual I’ve welcomed into my house that has stolen from me, as there still appears to by still about 100 bucks missing from my coffers, minus what Martiel took. I’ve got my suspicions, but there’s not much I can do about it, the situation is unfortunate to say the least.

Though I missed my Tuesday meeting with the district chief, I made up for the wasted day by heading to the Catholic hospital on Wednesday to meet with Alice and examine the records on waterborne disease. The hospital is managed by a group of French nuns and is far and above the largest, best equipped and most professional health establishment here in Dschang. After meeting with the hospital director and lab supervisor I arranged to return the next day for a tour of the lab and a chance to go through the available records. In returning to town I profited from the opportunity to cut cross country and take in some of the beautiful countryside, further acquainting myself with the lay of the land around Dschang and stopping by the hospital Ad Lucem to arrange a rendez vous with the head doctor.

Walking through the field you come across these fetish bags that people put up around their fields to keep theives and bad spirits away

You also find these little huts that traditional western Cameroonian families use to house the exhumed skulls of their ancestors

Thursday I returned to the sisters’ hospital and spent the day pouring through the lab results and noting results associated with contaminated water supplies. By the end of the day I was finished with January 2008; one month down, how many to go we shall see. That evening I met with Alice for a drink before she took off for a holiday weekend. As Friday is a religious holiday, my chances of accomplishing any official business are limited, with civil (and religious) servants taking the day off.

As it was, I still managed to spend the day semi-productively, processesing some samples for the benefit of the benefit of a helpful grad student Richard in the geography department at the University of Dschang. Next week I should be wrapping up the preliminary epidemiological research and heading to Baffoussam to look into purchasing an incubator (the sisters' hospital has a great model and gave me some useful contacts).

One of Richard's samples, don't drink the water in Bamenda!

Week 7 wrap up and Week 8

Week 7 etc. or Continued puttering about town

Monday I zapped the ameebs with a single shock dose of the paracide flagycil. Valerie dropped by the apartment for a bit and taught me a Cameroonian gambling card game, "fap fap," which apparently is a favorite of marketplace hustlers. No Cameroonian I've yet met knows how to properly shuffle, and the preferred method of rapid deck cutting allows a considerable bit of funny business as Valerie demonstrated. Today also marked Matt's departure, so in search of some company I tracked down David and together we dickered around town, stopping by the University to pursue my incubator.

Tuesday was chicken cooking day. I arranged with Clemence to come to the apartment and teach me how to prepare the Cameroonian specialty of chicken with peanut sauce. This is no small feat, and even with the efforts of Clemence and me as well as Mireme, who had tagged along for the fun of it, the meal took most of the day to prepare. Though chicken is my meat of choice stateside, I think I'll be looking for a substitute here in Cameroon. A medium sized chicken costs about 6 bucks, which is pretty reasonable, but the real issue lies in the fact that when you buy a chicken, you buy them live. In the end the slaughter, plucking and butchering was quite interesting, if time consuming, and the finished product was delish. We sat ourselves down to a fine meal, and a post dinner laptop viewing of the 80's classic "Some Kind of Wonderful," dubbed in French quelle magnefique.


Wednesday I felt a bit down and as it was raining all day I spent the duration indoors. Thursday I was feeling a bit back on top and made it around to the Nana's where I got the chance to meet some cousins of the family and Papa Nana's brother-in-law. Friday I stopped by Rosinne's at her request and was hit up for a loan. I must have passed some invisible threshold here in Cameroon, crossing the line from the indeterminate status of mild acquaintance and guest to something of a more solid relationship zone that involves requests for money, as this in not the first loan that has been solicited from me in the past week. Perhaps I should be complimented, financial assistance is a family and close friend oriented business here in Cameroon; and here I am doling out favors and contemplating Soprano-esque collection schemes.

Saturday I hit up the bank machine to take care of this loan, and found myself in a panic over my perceived receipt of a number of counterfeit bills courtesy of the ATM. I spent most of the day preoccupied by this issue of questionable bills, calling up what police and government officials I've befriended and searching for some authentication, a difficult task given the fact that power was out all day. I finally managed to put the issue aside, collecting myself in time to receive an encouraging visa-related call from the US embassy in Yaoundé, and a short visit to the apartment by Papa Nana and a teacher colleague.

Sunday is quickly becoming my favorite day of the Cameroonian week. The morning false- started at about 5am with a couple of early calls from Rosinne's husband Wilfried. Though in my sleep-addled state I did not deign to answer these abnormally early calls, but instead silenced my phone, soon after waking a bit of thought lead me to conclude that only the birth of Rosinne's baby could justify such unusual behavior! My suspicions were further strengthened when later that afternoon all calls to immediate family members garnered no response.

But as for my Sunday, after a leisurely breakfast engaged in the perusal of the last few days New York Times Digests, I went on a run and stopped by the cyber. There I met a French aid worker, Alice, affiliated with the Catholic missions and assisting in the accounting department of the local Catholic hospital, a sizable institution whose cooperation I am actively seeking in my research into the incidence of water-borne disease, a serendipitous meeting to say the least. She and I arranged to meet up that evening to discuss my project a bit and we ended up having a lovely time, before I was obliged to jet off to the Nanas' to offer my congratulations on the birth.

Week 8: Everyday I'm hustlin' Monday August 4, 2008

Baby Evira at a week old

Lindsay had big plans to head back to Dschang to see the baby, but experienced a slight setback with her contraction of a mild case of malaria in Kribe. Though she was soon back up on her feet and in fine health, the cancellation of her expected visit put me in the position of breaking the news to the various family members, and wrapping up a few loose ends. Most of the day was spent preparing for Linds' departure and taking a gander at the new kid.

Proud Mom

Tuesday I hit the ground running, meeting with the head doctor at the Hopital Centrale to arrange for the collection of some patient data. Then it was off to Kelang to take a long postponed tour of the mountain spring house and gravity-fed distribution system. It was quite impressive, the principles and construction are relatively basic, and absolutely undersell the benefit this system has brought to the village of Kelang and neighboring communities in Bafou. The spring source is even used by the central hospital to augment their SNEC-provided tap water and provide a backup supply in the event of power outage.

After coming back from my tour of the Kelang system, I met up with a former U Dschang masters student who has executed the most recent study of the city's water quality. She was able to provide me with a few digital copies of some of the graphics published in her thesis as well as some additional data on well locations that was not included in the initial draft of which I have a copy.

Wednesday I headed back to the Hospital Central where I spent most of the day with an intern combing through the hospital registers for the past several months, recording all instances of water-borne disease. It was my first real experience with public health data, or anything truly medical in nature and it was quite interesting. There is a wealth of data in these registers, even though it has only been this past year that the hospital has begun recording the diagnoses of incoming patients instead of just symptoms. Still there is much that could learned, from public health issues like water quality to additional social issues like incidence of violent crime or automobile related injuries. These registers are a repository of useful information and unfortunately are severely underutilized, though the hospital does appear to be compiling monthly malaria statistics for unknown ends.

After finishing up at the hospital I stopped by SNEC to make arrangements with the patron to take a tour of the treatment and distribution system on Friday, and picked up a letter of introduction and support from the head of the University's biology department addressed to the Mayor of Dschang, who, rumor has it, has a history of expressed interest and execution in water resource and quality management for Dschang (his office was in large part responsible for the funding of Kelang's spring system).

Thursday I buzzed around town a bit, certifying a copy my newest letter, shopping for a big spaghetti dinner and attempting to track down a Professor Fonteh, head of water resources research for the University's department of agronomy and agriculture. It wasn't until Friday that I finally got ahold of him, but it was a very fruitful meeting and I've now a fresh stack of relevant masters theses to comb through over the next few weeks. And this wealth of new reading material arrived on the heels of a most fascinating tour of the water treatment and distribution system for SNEC. My guide was quite knowledgeable, and was able to provide answers to almost all of my questions on flow rates and treatments.

The water for Dschang comes from riverine sources in the foothills outside the city. Two-thirds of the supply is processed at a 28 yr-old facility constructed by the Belgians that appears largely to be in good working order, though the accuracy of this initial assessment rests on as yet unperformed analysis. The remaining 1/3 is processed at an ancient and considerably more dilapidated station constructed by the French in 1957. The principles of their treatment methods seem quite solid, and the only real uncertainties for me rest in the consistency and potency of the chlorination treatment and in the ability of the sand-based filtration components to filter out the larger but more chlorine-resistant pathogenic protozoa like Giardia, Cryptosporidium and amoebas.

The ancient French built treatment plant

The arrangement of the distribution set up involves a central juncture of the two sources before entering the city proper, where the distribution network then branches out to countless home faucets along a dozen or more secondary distribution lines. The accessibility of this pre-distribution collection point is ideally suited for a comprehensive sampling program, and should enable the relative isolation of contamination sources stemming from within the distribution network itself, i.e., post treatment.

The newer Belgian built treatment plant, processing over 2/3 the city's supply

All in all the tour excited me with the possibilities for real research gains. I toasted the day's progress later that evening with Lindsay's good friend officer Adamou over a dinner of spaghetti (…again, I've got to start cooking in smaller quantities). It was a great evening, for maybe the first time since arriving here I really got lost and involved in a conversation with a Cameroonian, in French no less. The evening got real, and I guess I hadn't noticed how much that possibility was absent from my day-to-day interactions until it was staring me in the face. What a pleasure and what a milestone moment for the language skills, though the uncommon facility of our interrelation is at least equally responsible.

Week 7: In which my gaming partner deserts me and my amoebas start getting a bit uppity

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Week 7: In which my gaming partner deserts me and my amoebas start getting a bit uppity

Saturday was a day of rest and revelry. Matt and I whiled away several hours at the local café, guzzling coffee and other wise indulging ourselves. In an exciting diversification of our time wasting options, I learned to play backgammon on Matt’s newly acquired, custom-built backgammon board; quite possibly the only one of its kind in all of Cameroon. Though I managed to recapture my lead in our running cribbage tourney after a rather unjust skunking received the previous night, Matt, in what can only be an example of the underhanded cheating of a most devious mind, trounced me in backgammon 13 games to zero.

Our gaming reverie was somewhat interrupted by the occurrence of a moto accident in the street right in front of us. Two motos collided, and a woman passenger and one of the drivers were injured, not gravely but still rather seriously. A large crowd soon gathered, and only grew as fight soon broke out from unknown causes. And in the truest testament to the Cameroonian entrepreneurial spirit, not long after the accident, an aspiring businessman was taking advantage of the assembled crowd to hawk his wares, baseball caps at 3,000 cfa.

Later that evening I set off for the N’joco’s to join them in a party they were hosting to celebrate the scholastic achievements of 3 of their children and the birthday of a fourth. It was a lovely party, with at least 20-30 guests. A tasty buffet dinner was introduced with speeches by the eldest son (who just graduated from high school) and proud father, and a short prayer by the honored guest and bon vivant Officer Wabo, chief of Dschang’s Commisariat. Officer Wabo also took it upon himself to start up a celebratory bottle of whiskey with an African tradition (new to me) where the first person to open the bottle pours whiskey into their hands and goes around clasping the hands of everyone else who is sharing in the drinking.

Sunday morning I woke up late and took of for morning run to sweat the previous night’s festivity out of the system. Now this will be news for my audience, but for the past 3 weeks I’ve been carrying a small colony of amoebas around in my lower intestine. Having amoebas isn’t the worst thing that can happen to a guy, as they manifest their presence only sporadically, with painfully acute cramping and some unfortunate intestinal activity. Maybe once a week for the past several weeks I’ve found myself afflicted for periods of several hours at a time.

As the treatment is supposedly rather harsh, and with side effects of fatigue and body aches, I’ve been roughing out what spells have come, thinking of my amoebas as something of a temperamental ant colony. But that was before the amoebas attacked viciously outside the Commisariat Centrale, 1.5 clicks into a 3 k loop. Methinks I’ll be paying a small visit to the pharmacy on Monday.

Week 6: A second wind and a rosier perspective

Week 6: A second wind and a rosier perspective Sunday, July 20, 2008

Saturday

As is so often the case, a restful night’s sleep can have amazing recuperative effects. I found some good deals on some kitchen and lab supplies and spent a recuperative couple of hours just hanging around at the Nana’s house and soaking in the good will. Valerie’s cousin had been visiting and was now preparing for his departure. To honor the occasion they were taking some rather hilarious photos of themselves. I happened to come into possession of these photos as my computer is serving as a temporary storage medium until Valeria can buy himself a memory stick, and I’ve included some samples:

Valerie...

and his cousin Partou striking a pose

This kind of seeming narcissm/innocent self-infatuation is typically Cameroonian and always amusing. Traveling foreigners are expected to be taking pictures at nearly every opportunity and small children are constantly demanding “filmez-moi”( take my picture) followed immediately after each shot by cries of “montrez-moi” (show me). I find one of the most amusing examples to be the mirrored walls that are present in every single dance club, where it is not at all unusual to see people blatantly dancing with their own reflection, like the dance floor is empty except for a couple of people who just stand in front of the mirrors checking themselves out while they bust their moves.

This interest in personal appearance is of course not at all unique to Cameroon, but still manages to manifest itself in all kinds of novel and amusing ways. For example, everyone washes their shoes and feet religiously, and to leave the house with dirty shoes will definitely catch one a subtle rebuke. Shorts and tank tops are also relegated to the backyard and immediate neighborhood; and when on a particularly hot day I decided to hell with convention and donned the outfit below, my house brothers were shocked incredulous that I would be going into town dressed like that and attempted an intervention.

Here I am, dressed with a rather scandalous priority on comfort

A viewing session of these photos combined with all the photos taken by Matt Clarke did wonders for my spirits and I will be doing my best to go back through past entries and stick in relevant images. Seeing the photo documentation of my stay so far in Cameroon allowed me to take it in from an outside perspective, and I realized that despite my current and past difficulties I have seen and done some incredible things. Cameroonian bureaucracy is not going to defeat me so easily, and I am feeling newly able to make the best of my situation.

Sunday
Nathan Spence, the newest Breaking Ground volunteer, has recently arrived in Cameroon and came to visit us in Dschang today. Together we went again to see the bridge project, and after an initial scare where we were stopped by the gendarmes (I had left my expired visa at the apartment), we got off with a warning and were sent out on what turned into an incredibly scenic back country motorcycle ride and delicious lunch at the chefferie or chief's palace of Fosson Wengtcheng. I picked up a few potentially useful contacts and some leads on local water issues and patterns of typhoid outbreak. This evening I will try and hit up the cyber or internet café and get in touch with David to solicit his help in the second wave of my attack on Yaoundé.

Monday saw me engaging in a nice long conversation with David, the result of which was a decision to call the American embassy in Yaoundé to see if they can’t help motivate the Cameroon office to actually investigate my claim. Monday was also grande marché; so with some assistance from Mama Nana and the eldest daughter Rosine, I undertook my first real shopping trip, and that night cooked my very first meal in the apartment. It seems I got a bit carried away during my shopping venture (it's hard to resist when the local produce all looks amazing and is incredibly cheap0; so it looks as though I will be eating spaghetti with red sauce for the next week or so.

Tuesday was Lindsay’s last day in Dschang before heading back up north to help Sarah move out. We scrambled a bit to put together some final paperwork. With a selection of letters snazzily certified using the new BG stamps, Lindsay took off, though not before infecting my laptop with a rather irritating virus picked up at the local cyber, a lovely farewell present. I also placed a call to the US embassy where I was given promises of a call later in the week from someone with actual authority.

View of the local high point from my apartment

Wednesday.\, Matt and I went on a lovely little hike in the neighborhood to the north of town, checking out a local high point and generally just mucking about. It was great to stretch the legs a bit, and was a pleasant enough hike to convince me into trying to make it a more regular affair. It’s really kind of silly how little time I’ve spent just exploring to the local neighborhoods, though I suppose without a solution to my visa issues I’ll be getting to know the immediate area quite intimately: 5 months in a 5km radius. We headed back into town in time to watch the final stretch of the day's stage in the Tour de France (we’ve become Tour watching regulars at the local bar containing what has to be the city’s largest TV), and frittered away the rest of the day playing cribbage using a board we constructed out of a piece of 2x4, a hammer and nail, and 4 match sticks.

The most awesome cribbage board ever

Early Thursday I set out with Mireme to work a little more actively at soliciting the support and cooperation of some local institutions. Wearing my swankiest outfit, we set out on a tour that included stops at the University, central hospital, and water utility. At the University I spoke with the biology department head again and was able to get him to pledge a letter of support for me and my project, which should go a long way in gaining the support of additional institutions. I was also able to follow up on the incubator, the use of which is unfortunately going to turn into more of a project than I had hoped, while still remaining feasible.

An additional stop on our University visit included a tour of the Geography department. Here I was introduced to a graduate student, Richard, who is studying industrial water usage in the city of Bafoussam. He was able to provide me with some decidedly more useful maps of Dschang and was courteous enough to scan for me portions of what has to be the only topographic map made of the entire region. Good maps are hard to come by, but my commitment to tracking down the best of what’s available has been reaffirmed with this visit to the Geography department. Though of course I can’t help but return to the rather unfortunate realization that knowledge of the surrounding area is only useful in combination with the ability to travel in the surrounding area…

After passing through the University, we stopped in the central hospital, where I was able to speak with the head doctor about examining their records to track the origin of water borne illness in Dschang and her environs. I will be returning Monday with some official letters from BG and hopefully the University so that approval can be granted and work gotten underway.

After a full day, Mireme and I returned to the apartment for some R&R and took up a game of checkers using buttons we had purchased earlier for this express purpose. In Dschang there is an average of 3 checkers games occurring on every block, and I figured it was about time I brushed up on my game. Mireme an I were a good portion into the game before realizing that we were each playing two games with very different rules. In Cameroonian checkers, your pieces can (an must if able) jump your opponent’s moving backwards, and the king is able to move unlimited squares along the diagonal, taking pieces all the while. Needless to say, I was a bit set back by this discovery and soundly lost the next 3 games.

Friday I returned to the University on my own to drop off my project description to aid in the formulation of a letter of support. I also took advantage of the opportunity to sit in on a lecture I had heard about yesterday on the transport of material through the hydrologic cycle. The lecture was being given by a visiting researcher, a Frenchman, who works with the office of France’s national development organization in Yaoundé. It was a bit basic, covering a wide variety of topics at a fairly introductory level. This topical redundancy plus the hour late start time and language barrier saw me sneaking out after only an hour and change. Still, it was a worthwhile experience and I’m glad I took the trouble.

Nathan Spence also happened to be visiting Dschang, so together Matt and I taught him cribbage and I received some much needed assistance in finishing off the last of the spaghetti. I also learned some valuable lessons regarding the proper storage and utilization of foodstuffs here in the land of no refrigerators: While cooked food can be near infinitely reheated with little ill effect, raw meat has a rather limited shelf life of 24hs or less. My recommendation: immediate vinegar marinade, cure that sucker and cure it good!

Week 5: In which my illusions are further shattered and I purchase an extraordinary couch

Week 5: In which my illusions are further shattered and I purchase an extraordinary couch

Taking a night time bus from Yaoundé back to Dschang brought me home shortly after day break. The past few days’ efforts plus the sleepless night had taken their toll and I was feeling rather ill. So Saturday was spent resting up, though I did manage to make it into town to order a couch built for the new apartment, which was scheduled to be ready for me on my return from Yaoundé.

Sunday I was feeling decidedly better, and as it was the Grande Marché in Dschang, I couldn’t have picked a better day to be up on my feet and exploring around town. Today was also the day that the new Peace Corp trainees were scheduled to arrive as part of an exploratory tour of the area. The apartment next to mine is rented by the Peace Corp, meaning that one of these individuals will eventually be my neighbor. Early in the morning we met up with a full fledged volunteer named David who is already 9 months into his stay and working with a small health clinic out in the hills about an hour or so from Dschang. He was met by Ben, a trainee who will be working in agriculture and business, and Kat, a micro finance and business specialist who will be my eventual neighbor.

The trainees still have one month of a three month regimen of course work and home stay immersion before they are inducted as full volunteers and sent off to work independently. The two-thirds milestone sees them sent off for preliminary week-long visit to their eventual work sites with a small scavenger hunt type assignment to complete. My future neighbor is quite nice, and in a stroke of good fortune (as those that know me well can assuredly avow), she also happens to be a rather shrewd and enthusiastic card player!

With Lindsay drafted yet again into the role of tour guide, we set out into the bustling market to buy panya and otherwise soak in the sites; all in all a fairly relaxed day. Monday I contacted the concierge of my apartment to check in on the progress. Turns out he was also away on business and all preparations came to a stand still. I was certainly disappointed by the delay, and my spirits only worsened upon my discovery while shopping for various furnishings that I had come into possession of a counterfeit 10,000 franc bill.

10,000 cfa is no small chunk of change, and is in fact the largest denomination of Cameroonian currency. For this reason it is impossible to receive it as change, and in tracing the history of this bill it is clear to me that it came from an ATM. When I brought my problem to the bank I’ve been using, in a fairly livid state, they of course denied any responsibility. In a fit of temper I shredded the bill, which I now kind of regret as it could have made an amusing souvenir. An expensive lesson but one certainly well learned, I now check all the bills I receive and am seriously considering investing in a 2,500 cfa counterfeit marker.

The next two days were spent hounding the concierge to finish painting and cleaning the apartment, and bouncing back and forth between the water and electric utilities to get my services turned on. Of course once the water and power came on, I find that there are broken power outlets and faucets that can’t turn off so plumbers and electricians had to be called in. I’m judiciously saving all receipts and it's come to the point were my first 3 months rent is already paid for, as with the landlord absent it falls on me to pay all these expenses.

Wednesday evening I picked up my couch and by Thursday I was moving into the apartment, attracting some funny looks as a travel from the Nana’s house with my entire luggage in a pushcart I was bringing myself. Working as a “pousieur” is not the most typical activity for visiting foreigners. Now I’ve got the bare bone essentials and even had a few friends over for a drink to break the place in.

The COUCH!

But the expense and difficulty of moving is only compounding my visa related stress, and on Friday when my government friend David placed a direct call to the director of the DBF only to be given the counsel that I return to the US, I must admit I hit an all time low. Desperate toned emails were sent and whiskey was consumed. Confronted by rising costs of a money trap apartment and the apparent loss of my host family and disgusted with the constant market place price fixing, the ineptitude of the public utilities and the visa situation above all, I am really questioning my mission here.

Week 4: In which I travel to Yaoundé

Week 4: In which I travel to Yaoundé Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Sunday evening saw us back in Dschang at long last (home sweet home!). Yesterday I passed the day attempting to contact Madame Panka to rent her apartment in between naps and meals. Today was much more productive as I finally got a hold of the concierge and hired a painter. In addition, last night I discovered that Mireme is not a history but a biology major, so today he took me on a tour of the University and introduced me to some professors including a microbiologist and the head of the biology department! These meetings were very promising; it seems that actual water analysis has been conspicuously absent during the development of Dschang’s water infrastructure and everyone is very interested in the work I will be doing.

A professor in the agriculture/husbandry school has assured me that he has an incubator I can use (the most essential piece of equipment I couldn’t bring with me) and has promised to make some inquiries with a friend who works with the water utility as well as arrange a meeting with the University president, huzzah! I think the University will be a great resource. Tomorrow I’m off to Yaounde to extend my visa, and by the time I’m back my apartment should be ready so I can set up my lab and start working in earnest. Exciting times ahead!

Week 4 continued: In which I lose my innocence Saturday, July 19, 2008

It has been a trying past week, and though things have been quite difficult for me, I definitely feel as though I am coming out on the other side of a rather discouraging storm cloud. My voyage to Yaoundé involved a rather painful couple of days attempting (without success) to renew my visa, followed by the ordeal that has been moving into my new apartment. During this time I’ve left a considerable portion of my naïveté behind, and come face to face with the reality of Cameroonian corruption and bureaucratic inefficiency that is commonly acknowledged with a shrug and a “that’s just Cameroon.” But let’s rewind a bit…

The voyage to Yaoundé involved an all-day-long bus ride with a scheduled departure of 10am, and actual departure of 1pm, one flat tire and an eventual arrival in Yaoundé 8 hours later. My first hour in Cameroon’s capital involved catching a cab to my rendez-vous point with Sara and Lindsay, and eating an incredibly expensive and decidedly mediocre slice of pizza, but oh the CHEESE!!! That Wednesday night we slept at the home of the Peace Corp chief coordinator for all of Cameroon. The man himself was absent, but his lovely wife Georgette and three beautiful children made us feel incredibly welcome for the duration of our stay in Yaoundé.

Thursday morning we set out first thing for the Delgation de la Sùreté Nationale, i.e., visa headquarters. With the help of an young officer named Vincent I wrote my request for a visa extension, went downstairs to get it certified, came back upstairs to bring it to the office of the Secretariat Générale, and was obliged to rewrite my request one more time in English before being told to comeback at 8am the next day. All and all not so bad, things appear to be going swimmingly even. Vincent and I exchange numbers and it seems that he will be able to serve as my semi-official guide to the visa process.

The rest of the afternoon was spent meeting up with Sara and Lindsay and indulging in a rather exorbitant shopping spree. Our main objective for the day was a trip to the Marché Centrale for some quality time with a friend of Lindsay and Sara’s named Usman. Usman owns a men’s clothing boutique and I immediately found myself spending too much money on western dress shirts and fabric for what will eventually be some ridiculously flash dress pants. After hanging with Usman for a bit, the ladies and I parted ways, they to return to the house for a rest and myself to continue exploring the nation’s capital.

I was not long on my own before being taken up by an unofficial market guide who helped me find a few items including some pretty snazzy dress shoes for which I almost certainly overpaid. I left the market in pursuit of ice cream, which was delcious(!) and hamburgers and fries. The hamburger joint wasn’t very good, but I came to realize how much I missed ketchup and pretty near licked my plate clean.

The remainder of the day passed fairly uneventfully, save for a highly satisfying trip to one of the city’s biggest super markets and a minor altercation on my way through one of the street markets. I caught a guy unzipping the exposed pocket of my back pack. He unzipped it lightening quick and when I whirled around he was jetting off like nothing had happened. I chewed him out and gave him a shove as he pretended not to know what I was talking about and swiftly got myself out of the open. Everyone had of course warned me of the dangers (most especially the Nana family who would have you believe the entire city is populated by thieves and cutthroats), so the most anyone was going to get out of my back pack was toilet paper or deodorant. Still, I was a bit unnerved by the experience as well as decidedly pissed off.

Returning to the house, we had a nice swim with the kids in the neighbors’ pool followed by a lovely dinner prepared for us by Georgette and a restful night’s sleep. The next morning saw me off to the visa office for my 8 am appointment.

Now for those of you who are familiar with the adventures of Asterix and Obelix (books my siblings and I grew up with), you might recall the story of the Twelve Tasks of Asterix. In this tale Asterix is presented with 12 Herculean challenges he most surmount in order to obtain some or other worthy goal, the details of which escape me. These tasks included familiar contests of physical stamina including field events like the javelin throw and endurance eating competitions.

But you also might recall a decidedly unique task where Asterix is pitted against the Roman bureaucracy, sent to an administrative building where he must get a specific form signed and certified. What ensues is a scavenger hung through a jungle of red tape and forms in triplicate, highly uncivil servants, and a veritable labyrinth of endless corridors and staircases leading nowhere. The real challenge for Asterix is mental, as he must complete the task without giving way to madness. In the end he simply falls back to form, downs some magic potions and crashes through walls until he finds the necessary office.

Oh how I wished I had some of that potion. Somewhat out of breath after mounting 4 flights of stairs (no working elevator of course), I arrived bright eyed and flushed to my 8am appointment at the front office of the Secretariat Générale. After asking after the status of my visa, I’m told it’s still being processed and I should come back at 1pm. Not what I was expecting. Pressing for more details as to the actual physical location of my application got me a terse answer followed by the straight up silent treatment, like I’m talking to the officer, asking to confer with the office head who told me to return at 8am, who is of course sitting right behind the guy in plain view and both men are pretending not to hear me despite the fact that I’m three feet away.

I descend the 4 flights feeling somewhat set aback, so I call in for reinforcements. Vincent, my unofficial official guide says he will be in to the office shortly. Considering that its Friday and I need this visa before the weekend, my second assault has to come in heavy, so I also call in the big guns, i.e., the Lindsay Clarkinator. Lindsay arrives and uses her white woman instant access card to get the office head to come down the stairs himself and point out the building where my application is being held hostage by a separate department in charge of immigration, the soon to be dreaded DBF.

With a slip of paper given to Lindsay by the office head containing only the name “Paul” and my application number, Lindsay is granted access to the office. I’m waiting outside for a healthy dose of time until Vincent shows up. Vincent is able to take my registration number and actually make sure my application is in the DBF directors office. He and I wait together for a while until the time is deemed right to actually enter into building and begin waiting in the office itself.

After a briefly joyous reunion with Lindsay and another interminable wait, we are eventually ushered into the director's office to be told a tourist visa (which I have) cannot be extended into a long stay visa (which I need to legally stay in Cameroon). Upon explaining that I was given a tourist visa by the Cameroonian embassy in the US with assurances that I could obtain my long stay visa in Yaoundé, Lindsay is told that she needs to write a letter for the director describing the situation she has just explained to his face, and get it certified and approved by the Secretary General himself.

At this point it's getting pretty late in the day so we rush back up to the department of the Secretariate Generale, write the letter, rush back down to buy a certification stamp, then back up to inveigle the last remaining employee in the front office to certify the letter. We are subsequently told that the Secretary General has gone home already for the weekend. Totally unphased by this response, Lindsay leads us to his office where we begin pestering his secretary. At first he tells us the Secretary is out, but when it becomes clear we aren’t going anywhere, it is revealed to us that the Secretary is in fact wholly present but in a meeting, and we can wait for an audience in the windowless waiting room if we would like, “though an audience is certainly out of the question.”

So we wait, and then we wait a bit more, but the windowless aspect is making us nervous, so over the strenuous objections of the secretary we take our waiting to the hall way to be better situated for an ambush should the Secretary sneak out to use the bathroom or something. Finally, Lindsay decides to head back over to the DBF office to see what she can’t accomplish while I stand guard. No sooner is she down the 4 flights of stairs than what do I espy but the Secretary escorting two gentleman out of his office. After an emergency call to Lindsay I prostrate my self before his mightiness and stutter in my awful and assuredly incomprehensible French will he please review this application and accompanying letter.

Lindsay comes galloping up the 4 flights just as the Secretary disappears back behind his curtain. Shortly after my application emerges with an indecipherable note and NO APPARENT CERTIFICATION SEAL!! Eventually we find someone to decipher the note as a message marking the proposition for further “study” by the DBF office. Soooo, back down we go, and across the courtyard to resume waiting in the DBF director's office. To cut a long story short, he grants us an audience in order to tell us he has to, you guessed it, “study the proposition.” We leave visa-less and dejected, with vague instructions for us to solicit a letter from the Cameroonian embassy in the US confirming our situation.

Turns out, everyone at the embassy works for the director, and none see how it fits into their job description to advise their boss on visa policy via a technically unsolicited communication. But the boss wants them to initiate contact and the embassy can’t initiate anything without the boss’ say-so, so a week later and several 1000 cfa of phone calls (including one to the director himself by my friend in local government) finds me still visa-less, but plotting a renewed assault in a week's time. During this next week I will be amassing an armada of letters from local government and university officials as well as (hopefully!!) the Cameroonian embassy, all avowing how much they desperately want me to stay in Cameroon. I shall be bringing this assault to the director’s door in the company of my government employee friend with renewed vigor next week, woe to those who would oppose me, woe indeed.

Week 3: In which I travel to the North and contract the flying green death

Week 3

Catching some shade at the train station

Friday was spent in transit to the north, through Bafousam, one of the largest cities in Cameroon and future work site of ground coordinator Nathan Spence, to Yaounde, the national capital. From Yaounde it was naught but a twelve hour train ride through the night to N’goundal. N’goundal is the small village where Sara, the previous BG ground coordinator worked with one her students to build a bilingual nursery school. We arrived, crashed for a few hours and headed to the school for the reception ceremony. The mayor and prefect and chief were all there with a number of other notables. Several speeches and a number of adorable performances by the ~5 year old students found us feasting and schmoozing comme standard operating procedure.

The new school and opening ceremony with local notables

The students themselves

After all the ceremony I wound up cruising the main drag in N’goundal where I managed to capture myself one of those genuine Cameroonian experiences that can be hard to find as a tourists. Sitting at a bar I was invited to join a few locals who promptly bought me a drink as their guest. So of course I bought a round for everyone, and soon we found ourselves debating the merits of globalization and foreign development in broken French.

It is through this conversation in combination with a couple other remarks garnered throughout my stay that I’m coming to appreciate the Cameroonian sense of a market economy. In what is perhaps a more socialist bent the Cameroonian concept of price is somewhat removed from our American dogma of supply and demand, rather reflecting a combination of intrinsic product value and that which an individual can afford. While foreigners are subjected to this idea on a regular basis in the shops, this was the first time I had the concept articulated to me by a Cameroonian. Though on paper the concept of paying in part according to one's means seems fair and even charitable, I find myself amused with the extent to which I instinctively rebel against this rather un-American concept, adamantly persisting in the belief that there is only one “true” price for a given product, and damn it all if I’m going to pay more than that.

N’goundal is a bit of a one horse town, but Sunday we took off for N’goundere, the seat of the Adamoua province. Sara has been teaching a women’s entrepreneurial class from which she selects worthy initiatives for funding through Breaking Ground. Throughout our stay we met her success stories, including a chicken farmer, a fish seller, a seamstress, a fried pastry vendor, a homemade juice vendor and a part-time farmer.

My idyllic stay in N’gaoundere was interrupted by a 36 hour stint at death's door, courtesy of a vicious bacterial infestation, but aside from incessant reruns of my life flashing before my eyes and a desperate viewing of a bootleg copy of I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry, there wasn’t too much of note going down. Tuesday saw me revisiting the land of the living to the extent that I went fabric shopping with the Clarkes and ordered myself some killer Muslim-style outfits.

Me sporting one of my new bubu

Wednesday we picked up our outfits and checked out some local craftsman before undertaking the 24 hour journey to Limbe. In Limbe we spent three wonderful nights, visiting an animal sanctuary, lounging on the beach and visiting with the Ab’eles before bidding adieu to Mama and Papa Clarke.

Sweet stache on this guy

The Abelles and limbe part II

Week 2: The Clarke family arrives

Week two

Saturday Lindsay took off to meet her parents so I was left on my own in Dschang. I had a really great meeting with Noupa. The man is a French and English teacher so even when we are just talking French he knows how to talk someone like me whose French needs a bit of work.

Sunday Lindsay arrived in Dschang with her family. They've hired this awesome chauffeur Bertrand during the stay and he was ferrying people over to this family compound in the village of Fongo Tongo, used by SIT as a welcome site during Lindsay's time as an SIT student. I went in the first truckload across some ridiculously bumpy roads and as an early arrival got to help the women prepare for the night's feast. As a man helping to prepare a meal I caught some flack, both from the men and women, the latter group were wary of my plantain slicing abilities and wouldn't let me use the sharp knife. At length I left the preparations to the pros and took off with Delmass to climb the local "mountain" and check out the view – beautiful.

A view from Fongo Tongo

Dinner was going to be a big deal, chicken DG (for Director Generale) which roughly translates to VIP chicken. I went into town with a couple of the guys to pick up drinks for dinner at the local general store where we encountered the chief of the neighboring village behind the counter and the chief of the local village drinking in the corner. Once we arrived and picked up what we needed Papa Nana bought us a round, and then I bought us a round, and next thing you know we were heading back to the site in decidedly higher spirits than when we left.

We arrived back at the compound to find that Lindsay had just killed her first chicken! And that preparations for dinner were well underway despite my absence. We feasted on chicken with green beans and carrots and fried plantain chips, and were joined by the chief of the neighboring village/general store manager. A fantastic meal and several speeches later the majority of us were in bed before 11pm.

The next day we took off to see the local sites. First we saw a sacred cave with our guide Jean Side by Side (cool name!). As the site is sacred and used for traditional rituals we needed a guide. It was pretty neat, lots of bats flying around. We got back to the site and hiked up the top of the same mountain. The whole region is volcanic highlands so you hike up the top for a great view and find that there is this awesome plateau region where people have planted crops. We hiked along for a bit above the local countryside.

Then we headed off to see the water fall Mamy wata. When enthusiasm for this site appeared to be waning we were motivated by Lindsay's advice that everyone in Dschang is going to ask white visitors if they've seen the falls at Mamy wata. We drove out there with some of us standing in the bed of the pickup truck which got a lot of grins and waves from the locals, and arrived in the rain to find that it was too slippery to do much more than look down at the falls from the top. It was still pretty cool; these falls are also a sacred site for traditional religious practices and a ceremony was going on during our visit with singing and dancing and sacrifices of salt and palm oil.

After another huge dinner joined by the chief we spent our last night at Fongo Tongo and headed back to Dschang for a hot second before shooting off to the village of Doombu. As Doombu is where Lindsay taught and built her library. We were in for a pretty special welcome. I got designated group photographer which was a clutch move in eliminating some of my awkwardness. The entire village was there to meet us more or less, with a silly hat for Papa Clarke to wear and a nifty bag for Mama Clarke. We toured the elementary school that Lindsay pimped out, had a drink; toured the grounds and had lunch and a drink at the home/mansion of a village elite, then toured the high school, where we were serenaded with speeches and the high school pep squad. It turns out the high school principal held onto all the students' grades until our visit so the kids would turn out, hilarious.

Lots of speeches during the school welcome ceremony

After the school ceremonies were over we went to a funeral type ceremony for Lindsay’s old chief who had passed since her last period in Cameroon. Cameroonian funerals are executed in three parts over the course of a year or more. The first part consists of the initial burial which happens right away for a very intimate crowd. This initial internment often occurs in the New Orleans style for wealthier individuals with a band and street procession. Then several months later there is the doui (doy) which we experienced in Doombu.

This is the lament, where the village turns out for a brief extent of wailing and mass mourning. I’ve seen this in films and on TV but was not prepared for the actual experience. As honored guests they sat us up in front, and while the wailing business had previously struck me as somewhat insincere or put upon, being actually immersed in it I found myself quite moved. The outpouring of emotion by so many people is quite powerful, both Lindsay and Delmass spontaneously broke out in tears. Though Delmass didn’t know the chief, for a child especially I wasn’t surprised that he should be so moved. To actually cry is a great compliment to the chief's surviving sons, and at the official conclusion of the mourning portion they passed by urging those in tears not to cry anymore as the time for sadness had passed. This lament marked the end of the mourning period, and they were setting up tents when we left for something like 6 days of non-stop celebration.

The death ritual/funeral process concludes with the actual funeral, which can follow months to years after the actual death and is more of a memorial service having a celebratory and commemorative atmosphere.

After the funeral we dropped our bags at the home of a village VIP, Monsieur Kensa. Mnsr. Kensa is a very successful business man and one of the wealthiest men in the village. He is actively involved in development work and has his own non-profit; and he is currently trying to expand internet access in the village among other initiatives. It is through his NGO that I hope to extend my visa through December. After dropping our bags we dined at the house of one of Kensa’s neighbors, a teacher who had worked with Lindsay in Doombu. Several of Lindsay’s lady teacher friends joined us, making for a festive atmosphere. These ladies are truly a riot, and they can’t get enough of Lindsay. At some point during the meal Lindsay committed her brother and me to the harvesting of one of the ladies cabbage fields so that should be interesting, though I must admit the details of the arrangement escaped me, perhaps due to the mealtime consumption of yet another beer.

After a restful night at the Kensa’s (with Matt, Lindsay and I all cozied up in the same bed) we breakfasted with the lady teachers before heading back to Dschang where I was able to run a few errands in my efforts to find a more permanent residence/workspace. Martiel and I went together to look at a spacious but rather dilapidated house in the same neighborhood as the Nanas. Throughout the discussion Martiel was constantly tugging at my sleeve and being shushed by the landlord. When he finally had a moment to speak to me, he informed me of the rather dramatic history of the house under inspection. It seems that 6 months ago the previous resident killed her husband and children inside, yikes.

After that surprise I kicked around town for a bit before meeting with Mnsr. N’joco, Alex’s old host father and his chemistry professor friend. Professor Kamgaing was a very nice guy and was genuinely interested in my work. He studies environmental chemistry, and is very much concerned with water quality parameters including dissolved oxygen and BOD (as well as numerous heavy metals) so I got a great chance to mix it up with some shop talk. Together with Mnsr. N’joco we discussed the possibility of my renting an apartment in the university dormitories and Prof. Kamgaing promised to look into it while I’m with the Clarkes up north this next week.

Cameroonians are generally pretty superstitious, and when I returned to the Nana’s later that evening, the first thing out of Mama Nana’s mouth was “Nathan! You cannot live in that house!” followed by a second recounting of the story and further exigencies. Now I’m thinking I can probably get this house for next to nothing, but I guess if I ever want to have Cameroonian visitors I’ll be better off looking elsewhere.

The next day, Thursday, I hobnobbed around town with Papa Nana for a bit in the morning, leaving him pleased as punch but also profiting myself from the occasion in meeting another school official who would be willing to put me up in his house outside town, and in having my first visit to the Artisinat, or artisans' workshop. The workshop has an incredible array of wood sculptures and traditional crafts, plus I got to see them working, which is in of itself a pretty neat process. An assembly line approach is used with an initial carver followed by several sets of sanders and finishers. The final products are quite diverse and exceptionally beautiful. We also headed back to Kelang with the full Clarke posse to feast at the chief’s and talk about the community center.

The Artisinat


Kelang

First week in Cameroon

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Greetings from Cameroon,

This is only my 6^th day here in the city of Dschang ("Chong"), but I'm already feeling well assimilated. We arrived at Douala airport on Friday, where Lindsay's host family (one of them) was there to meet us. We then drove to the city of Limbe on the coast, maybe an hour or two's drive through bustling Friday night traffic. The traffic itself is worth mentioning, as the experience was wholly foreign. It would appear that there are no real traffic laws, or things like designated lanes, or stoplights. Any space where a car can fit on or next to the road is fair game. This is even more true for the motorcycles that weave outrageously through the traffic. There also appears to be an as yet undecipherable system of communication involving the flashing of your lights at approaching vehicles.

Upon our arrival at Limbe, I got to meet the rest of the Abe'ele family, in total I believe it was 11 or 12 kids ranging in age from 13 to 28, and the two parents, plus 2 dogs and a cat. I have no idea where everyone slept. Only maybe 6 of the kids are biological, but as the family is fairly well off, they end up taking in a lot of extended family. This kind of thing turns out to be fairly typical of Cameroonian families, you live with as many people as your household can support, students as well as relatives in university towns like Dschang.

That evening we went to a restaurant by the ocean where I ate my first Cameroonian meal of fish and this jellied ground tuber thing "baton de manioc" (cassava root). Following the lead of the host father, I ate pretty much every part of the fish save its fins and spine, this includes the head, which is saved for last, not so appetizing but not so terrible either. I also got to have my first Cameroonian beer, a Guiness brewed and distributed in country.

The Cameroonian beer selection contains a number of different labels put out by maybe two larger breweries, but for the most part they all consist of standard USA type piss lager. Here and there it seems you can find a German import or a this French/African import Pelfort, and always there is Guiness. Beers come in 750-800 cl bottles, so the process of meeting multiple people for a drink throughout the day can become somewhat incapacitating.

Lindsay and I hit up a local black sand beach the next day, for some much needed recuperation. It was a really beautiful spot. After an excellent homemade dinner of "N'dole" (a paste of greens and peanuts and beef) served with balls of ground plantain we gave out some small presents and prepared for our departure in the morning. While packing a few of the younger children came into my room and I got a change to really interact, playing some hackey sack and showing off all my gear.

The next morning's bus ride to Dschang was fairly uneventful though we passed through some great scenery, upon our arrival we hired a porter guy to cart our bags and set out walking for our host's neighborhood. I knew we must be getting close when a small boy burst out of a doorway, screaming "Lin-say" and launched himself around her midsection. This was Martiel, 11 yrs old, who had been visiting his aunt's but promptly lead us to his house where we are staying.

After being forced to renegotiate the price for carting our bags (a typical experience for us rather conspicuous white folk) I got to meet the Nana household, consisting of mom, dad, grandma (an ancient woman who speaks only dialect), Rosine (at 25 the eldest daughter, currently pregnant but expecting in a month, so during my stay!), Clemance (a sweetheart daughter of ~23), Valerie (a cool guy musician of 20), Marionette (the sassy 16 year old daughter), then Marcel. In addition to this immediate family, Rosine has two adorable children, an 8 yr old boy Delmass and a 2 yr old girl Lindsay! There is also a grown son of maybe 27 working and studying in Douala, another son of ~23 in med school, and a daughter of ~13 that an Aunt took a liking to and essentially claimed as her own. These three no longer live at the house. There are also two male students in their twenties, Jojo and Mireme, who each rent a room. Mireme has demonstrated a real interest in my research and has already been a great help in tracking down a water quality questionnaire he helped distribute as part of a research project from 2 yrs ago.

Papa Nana and youngest son Martiel in front of the house

After meeting the family Lindsay and I went out with Delmass and Martiel to take a preliminary look around town. As it was late in the day on a Sunday, not too much was going on, but I did get to see some of the local landmarks and a fair amount of Lindsay's old stomping grounds. Downtown Dschang is a quite manageable size, consisting of maybe 12-15 square blocks but this relatively small area comes alive with activity during the week. On the market days merchants travel in from the surrounding villages, filling up the streets and giving the city the feel of a bustling metropolis.

View of the petite marché

On Monday I got the chance to see the people of Dschang during working hours. Lindsay took me around to her favorite café and restaurant and showed me some of the best places to buy everything from hardware to shampoo. Throughout this process we were making countless introductions as Lindsay encountered old friends she hadn't seen in two years. By the time we returned to the house just before dark I was dead beat. I've made an almost immediate transition to a very Cameroonian sleep schedule that I previously would have thought very unlikely: up at dawn (around 7am) and in bed reading by 10 or even 9. The Cameroonian day is strongly dictated by the hours of daylight, with concerns for safety (marauders are said to abound) and sorcery (traditional superstitions are very much a part of life) keeping most people indoors after dark (around 7pm).

Monday also happened to be the birthday of our host mother. Together we went to the market to go shopping for "panya," which means cloth and refers to 3m bolts of fabric festooned with traditional designs. Lindsay and I each selected a design that Mama Nana will turn into hand tailored outfits for us and bought her a panya of her own as a birthday present. I also got to meet Adamou, a friend of Lindsay's and member of the police force. He was quite friendly and should be able to help us get our various papers in order and meet with the right officials.

Tuesday also brought a host of introductions that have put me in touch with some very promising contacts. After meeting Tereza, the wife of Thomas, the owner of the chauffering company that Lindsay will be using when her family visits, where I got to breakfast on some "bouille" (Cameroonian cream of corn), we went to Doombu, the village where she taught in 2006 and had the library constructed and school improvements made. I can tell you that the reception was very warm indeed, the teachers are totally in love with Lindsay, and it was incredible to be so warmly received. It was also impressive to get to see first-hand the improvements Lindsay was able to make on the educational facilities there. Even with the school out of session, the impact Breaking Ground has had on the community there is clearly tangible. I also met with a couple high school teachers who also attend the University, one of whom is a biochemistry student that could help me secure additional supplies for my analyses.

Lindsay and her fellow elementary school teachers

After a quick beer with all the teachers, we jetted back to Dschang to meet with Noupa, a generous man who has already been a great asset to Breaking Ground. He has been investigating possible water projects on my behalf, and is also available for French lessons. I hope to be able to arrange something regular with him to help my language skills progress. We also met with Maurice, a former employee of SIT and brother to the chief of a neighboring village. He is a great guy who has arranged with us to come to his village tomorrow to discuss a community development project they are working on as well as some aspects of their water system.

Wednesday morning our host father took me to a couple neighboring houses to see about finding a new host family as conditions will be a bit crowded at the Nana's once Lindsay's brother Matt arrives. Lindsay and I also checked out an apartment that I might rent as a living space later in my stay. It's a great spot right in town at the old location of the offices of the SIT study abroad program that gave Lindsay her first introduction to Cameroon. It consists of two bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bath for the equivalent of only $50 a month, just one example of how far the dollar can take you here.

We also met briefly with Paul, the director of the bridge construction project that Breaking Ground is involved with to see about visiting the work site tomorrow. Our main excursion was to Kelang, the village of Maurice to meet with him and his brother the chief. They are trying to construct a community center there that will function as a general gathering place/town hall and also a nursery school for the children who are too young to walk to the schools in town. The project is well underway but work can progress only as funds become available. With the support of Breaking Ground, the village leaders believe that the roof and most of the walls could be readily finished, permitting use of the building even as finishing work continues. Besides providing valuable communal space, the nursery school will allow the mothers of young children to pursue additional enterprises outside of the maintenance of their households.

I was also told about their most recent water project which involved the construction of a collection basin at a spring head up in the hills. The basin fills and is gravity fed through pipes to 6 faucets distributed throughout the village, providing readily accessible, clean water to the villagers. At 20 m³ capacity, the basin is rapidly emptied, necessitating that someone man a master valve at the head of the system, turning the water on at certain times each day and shutting the valve once the basin is emptied to allow the source to replenish. The elders' hope is to eventually construct a second basin as the current capacity only partially meets the village's needs.

After returning to Dschang, we met with the N'djoko family, which hosted Alex during her SIT experience. The father works for the university in the administration, and has agreed to put me in touch with a chemistry professor he knows. As my research on local water quality gets underway my hope is that I will be able to rely on University contacts to help me with their chemical expertise and knowledge of how to secure additional supplies.

The N'Joko family

Thursday we traveled by moto to the bridge project, where we spent most of the day. The workers are currently in the process of filling the second stage of the bridge foundations. By the end of the day, the cement for the first 3 meters of the foundation had been poured on both sides and left to set. This brings the foundations approximately 1/3 of the way to what amounts to the 100 year flood plain, as reconstructed from the memories of the village elders. With an additional 240 bags of cement (at about $13.60 per bag) the bridge foundations could be complete within a month, to the point where progress should be insured against all but the most severe flooding the rainy season might bring. In the end, the completion of the bridge project will turn an 18km journey to town into a 7km journey, greatly facilitating the transport of goods to market for the 4 or 5 villages that will share the use of this bridge just as they have shared in the construction.

At the bridge project

Friday we set out to the Commissariat to see about obtaining national identity cards to facilitate work in travel throughout Cameroon. We spoke with Officer Wabo, who was very helpful and turns out to have been the host father for Breaking Ground's own Brendan Schwartz. During the process of having the ID cards explained to us and getting photocopies of our passports and visas certified, I met a member of the Cameroonian surveillance agency David Mbock. While Lindsay went off to Doombu to eat 7 different dinners at the homes of all the teachers, I stayed in Dschang and David took me apartment shopping. We visited a couple different buildings which were renting single rooms that might be suitable for setting up my laboratory. We also visited a local hotel so that David could follow up on claims that the hotel owners weren't paying the employees their agreed wages. We returned to his village of Foto just outside downtown Dschang to try and see if there was a room in his building and to have a drink.

My current hope is to sleep and take evening meals with a family and have a separate space in town where I can do my analyses. I want to do a home stay for at least the first month, month and a half as this kind of immersion should make learning the language and adapting to the culture all the easier while also providing me with some solid community of my own. I meet with Noupa again later today to discuss his water projects and teaching availability in greater detail.

Thus marks my first week in Cameroon; I can only hope that week two will be even half as productive!