Movin' on in

In the weeks leading up to my departure from the United States, my expectations about everyday life in Cameroon were based on the thought that I would have the most basic and necessary accommodations accompanied by a limited selection of dining options.  If you have low expectations, you are not surprised with having little to nothing and every luxury above the minimum a bonus.  I had preferences, of course, but was ultimately willing to live and work pretty much anywhere.  As such, I developed a fairly standard response to all of the questions about how much different everyday life was going to be here in Cameroon.  Gone are the days of living alone in my two bedroom condo with wifi, two televisions and the bonus option of choosing which shower I was going to use in the morning.  I was more than ready to trade it all in for bucket baths, no electricity and a stack of books that I certainly should have read by now --- such as Slaughterhouse Five, Animal Farm, and the Age of Reason (that’s right Mom, I have not yet read these books).  You know, the types of books that make Jeopardy champions.  And I had already survived four years on a steady diet of oatmeal, peanut butter & jelly with pretzels and a rotation of chili, spaghetti and macaroni & cheese … so how hard could it be to adjust to a new cuisine that would certainly provide more variety than before? 

Needless to say, these low expectations paid serious dividends when I arrived in Guider for site visit back in July.  As a result of some unfortunate thievery from the previous volunteer’s house, a new house was found in a large compound with a giant wall and overnight security.  Its not quite what we have come to know about the infamous compound in Abottabad, but I take comfort in knowing that any bandit will really have to earn it if they are tempted to explore what my house has to offer.

Another added benefit of my house is the family that shares the compound.  What was once a polygamist Muslim family with a husband and no less than three wives (not sure how many to be exact) is now a mélange of the close relatives of the oldest widowed wife.  While I have yet to formally work out a family tree – I’ve barely even learned everyone’s name due to the constant flow of friends and family – this type of situation is nonetheless an accurate representation of how a Cameroonian family operates.  Relatives that are considered to be part of the extended family in the United States are routinely accepted as part of the immediate family here in Cameroon where cousins introduce each other as brothers and/or sisters, and parents have no qualms about treating their nieces and nephews as their own children.  With that in mind, and when remembering how quickly I was treated as part of the family during training in Bafia, I have not been surprised at all about their hospitality thus far.  At least once or twice per week I receive a knock on my door accompanied by a plate of the latest kitchen creation --- most recently a mixture derived from a pumpkin-esque melon and ground up nuts that had a consistency similar to dry mashed potatoes.  Whether it has been the gumbo with couscous, candied peanuts, or fresh fruit picked from a tree in our compound, everything has been quite delicious and unlike anything I’ve had before.

A couple of the girls from the family, with the mouton in the background resting up for his big day

 As for my house, my method in describing it to other volunteers has devolved from a point of great excitement and pride to a feeling of slight embarrassment due to the luxuries that it affords.  Not only does it have running water, electricity and two bedrooms, but it also provides me with the opportunity to choose which shower to use every day.  So much for my previous assumption that I would be taking bucket baths and fetching water from a nearby well.  In addition to that, having a combination of the previous volunteer’s stuff (i.e. cookware, furniture, etc.) and whatever the family left inside, I didn’t have to go from one market to another in search of missing necessities.  Compared to other volunteers, many of whom started with an empty house and had to work out the complicated logistics of getting everything back to post on motos, taxis or buses, I had it pretty easy. 

My house with mango trees on the left and a guava tree around back

After taking a tour of the big house in the compound and seeing many of the modern amenities such as a water heater, oven and a television, its readily apparent that this situation is quite modern compared to what we can find less than a block away.  With very few exceptions here in Cameroon, a mud hut with a thatch roof is never far away, even in large villages and big cities.  And in my cartier (or neighborhood), its quite common to see these modern houses interspersed with traditional dwellings.  It was quite the contrast this past Sunday when I was searching the internet from the comfort of my couch while looking out my door and seeing the family’s domestique washing the dishes in a puddle of water left over from the most recent rainfall.  Despite the running water and ability to do the dishes inside, for a woman that comes from a small village and only speaks the local language, old habits surely die hard. 

Traditional homes situated amongst the cornstalks

 In the same way you don’t have to look hard to find traditional homes amongst the modern, we are never far away from open roads and scenic views.  As is the case for the Sahel, the name for the geographical landscape in northernmost Cameroon, a view of the horizon is devastatingly flat in each direction set against the backdrop of a mountain range to the west and south, and a matrix of oddly situated two or three-peak mountains to the north and east.  Its quite a sight during the rainy season, as green is the prevailing color in all directions – hence, the number of cattle, goats and sheep grazing this time of year – but I’m sure it will also make for an equally spectacular scorched-earth view during the eight month dry season between October and June.

A view of the Sahel and the mountains to the west