Sabba Njowra

We have returned! After a few wet, hungry, beautiful days up on the mountain, we are back in Bamenda. It is just so lovely up there that I hope you can get a taste of it through pictures, but I'm sure they don't do it justice. Thursday afternoon Papa Karissa drove us up to the village, on a road that puts the Bowman road to shame, especially when it's muddy. For the last section we rode on the back, holding on to the rails and nearly falling off more than once... woohoo! When we arrived, we were welcomed enthusiastically, especially by Fadi and her family; her parents Yaya and Moa, her sister Maimu, and her brothers Yunu and Yusufu. There were plenty of other children running about yelling and waving and staring at the "white man" who had come as well, but that's nothing new.

And theennn... we got to ride! It was marvelous and grand and perfectly perfect. Sarah and Katelyn and I rode out to the very edge of the cliff that looks out over the entire Ndop plain. The fog rolled in and out; one minute we could see clear to the lake all the way across the plain, and the next the mist would be so think we could barely see 10 feet in front of us. I was quite sore the next morning, but it was completely worth it.

Once the sun set, we had dinner and soon after went to bed, though it was only a little after 8 o'clock. It was a good thing, though, because Fadi and her family wake up at 4 to have breakfast and pray before the sun rises. We didn't get up that early with them, but we tried fasting with them all day long. It was slightly easier than I thought it would be, but when sundown came, I was more than ready to eat and drink to my heart's content. Friday morning after washing dishes, Fadi took us out to see Balu, the other side of the cliff that looks down on several villages and farms. In the distance you could hear music that was playing in some bar or house down there, but other than that and the mooing of cows as they followed us around the mountain, it was completely peaceful and quiet. We sat and drank in the view for awhile, but eventually the clouds began to roll in and we hurried back before the rain started. I've found that in Cameroon the mornings are usually sunny and it's in the afternoons that the storms come and last into the night. Well, in the rainy season, anyway. I hear that in the dry season it barely rains at all, so I am grateful for all the storms and fog and rain while it lasts. After a quiet afternoon of reading, napping, and talking, we got to go riding again. The men had taken the horses to go to the mosque, so we had to wait for them to return to ride, but that way we could catch the sunset! ...Or so we thought. The rain came again and we got soaking wet, but it was just as fun running about in the rain. Feels a little more like Lord of the Rings that way, which, of course, is everybody's dream.

Here comes the rain!

(Moa's collection of pots - isn't it lovely?)

While we were there I picked up a few words of Fulfulde, to add to my repertoire of greetings in French and Pidgin (forgive me for my atrocious spelling, though - I'm just guessing here). They welcomed us into their compound by saying "Lalay, lalay, lalay" (welcome, welcome, welcome) to which you respond by saying "Useko, useko, useko" (thank you, thank you, thank you). Greetings include "Tonoy?" to which you respond "Walla," "Noy habbaru?" to which you answer "Jam," and "Eh satina?" to which you should say "Mi saati." All three of them are basically "how are you?" and "I'm fine." (And just in case you were wondering, "Mi footi" is "I farted.")

Last night it was nice falling asleep to the sound of rain, protected from the nasty bugs by our mosquito netting, our stomachs full of delicious food. Then this morning we woke at around 7 and had a bit of bread and coffee before the benskins, or motor-taxis, came to take us back to Door-Market (the end of the dirt road). That was quite the adventure. We had to pay them extra because of the muddy road, and we ended up slipping around and getting off to walk a couple times, but it was fine. A little mud never hurt anyone. From Door Market we caught a taxi back to Bamenda, which was also funny, because there were 7 of us squished inside and one of the men was just a little tipsy. Again, though, it was fine, more funny than problematic, and finally we were dropped at the end of our road. It's nice to be back again - Sabba Njowra is beautiful, and peaceful, and a break from normal life, but I gotta say, I do love taking showers and using my computer and making top ramen (I stocked up on some last time we went to the market).

"Make education your first husband!"

Tomorrow us girls are going to a dance show held at in Bamenda at the Top Star Hotel! We were invited to it by Derick, the dance teacher, and got tickets last week. We are all quite excited; apparently there is going to be a red carpet and a dinner and then dance presentations, so we are getting dressed up and I'm sure there will be pictures soon! Then Monday we start school, so it looks like routine is finally making its way into our so-far-relaxing life. Then next weekend is Sallah! Amazing how time has gone so fast.

Into da Bush

Today we are headed off to Sabba Njowra, Fadi's village, for a few days! We will be staying with Fadi's family until Saturday, spending time exploring the beautiful mountains they live in, riding horses, and even fasting during the day with them! Yay.... Just in case, we packed some bread and nuts and other snacks to hold us off until sundown.

I've stayed in Sabba Njowra before, when we came last year to do a VBS in the nearby school. This time it is just Katelyn, Sarah, and I, instead of a whole team, so I'm sure it will be different in many ways. I can't wait to be up there with the Fulani people, far away up in the mountains where life is simple and beautiful. No running water, no electricity, and certainly no internet; which makes for even less worries than we have here. I will write all about it when we return from da bush! So until then, my friends.

It Goes On

Whatever else life does, it always goes on, to paraphrase Robert Frost. I don't know about the rest of those in the Jackson Village, but I feel like I am slowly becoming accustomed to life in Cameroon. It's been 3 weeks since we arrived in Yaounde, but it feels like it's been much longer. We haven't started school yet, but some semblance of routine has set in since the first week that we spent unpacking and wandering around and wondering what to do with ourselves. Yesterday both Carolin and Fadi moved up to Sabba Njowra, Fadi's village. Carolin's staying up there until she finds a place in Bamenda, and Fadi is going back to stay with her family until school starts again. So there's been some switching of rooms; Sarah and I moved into Carolin's old room (with our own bathroom! Woohoo!), and Katelyn got her own room. Once we paint, we'll be completely settled into our rooms for the whole year!

Waking up this morning was a little weird in a new room, and a new country, for that matter. But the rest of the day was lovely; Karen, Sarah, Lum, Katelyn, Nelly and I drove into town to visit the Helping Hands orphanage. We were given a tour by Pa, or Patrick, the older man who runs the orphanage with his wife. We walked through the girls' room, the 3 rooms that housed the boys, the baby's room, the kitchen, the reading and computer room, and the backyard where they raise chickens and rabbits for selling and eating. There are about 15 boys and 12 girls, but those who are 13 years or older were away for a month at Teen Mission, so we played with the rest of them, showing them how to set up dominoes and take pictures with our phones, which they quite enjoyed. Several boys spent the entire afternoon taking pictures of themselves and each other, laughing every time the shutter sounded. We were also treated to a few they sang for us, which was marvelous!

 

Success Holiday

Good morning/evening/day to you all! I know I just wrote a whole bunch, but things seem to just keep happening. Funny how that works. This morning was "Success Holiday," the last day of summer school for Fadi and a combination party/game/competition day, which we had been invited to by the school director when we visited Fadi's class before, got in trouble, and were sent to the principal's office.

Anyway, the day usually starts at 8, but it's Cameroon, so we walked down there at about 8:45. For another hour or so we sat with the rest of the kids, all ages, in desks put out on the field and watched them setting up a sound system to play loud, static-y Cameroonian pop music and the Titanic theme song... over and over and over... Eventually the teachers arrived and the day began, between 9:30 and 10. After a prayer and an introduction, we watched them have a timed math competition, with two teams trying to come up with the right answer first. After that was English, Chemistry, and a debate about why kids should go to holiday classes/summer school. Interspersed among the competitions were dance demonstrations by groups of boys or girls. Then came the decision of who was to be crowned "Mr. and Miss Success Holiday," basically the Cameroonian version of Prom king and queen. 

It was quite different than any kind of crowning I've seen before, however. The two team, Cam A and Cam B, each chose a boy and a girl, who came out in turns wearing first traditional dress, then "party dress," then street clothes. They paraded across the front and back, to the cheers of their respective teams. I never found out who won, though... either they never announced it, or I couldn't hear it over the chatter of the kids, who mostly ignored whatever the director was saying over the microphone. I was rather surprised by the lack of respect they showed, with their friends on game day, as opposed to the quiet, attentive atmospheres of the classrooms during a lesson. 

When we left, around 1 o'clock, the games were still going on; a food-eating contest, with spaghetti and chopsticks, and an arm-wrestling match, which they seemed to take very seriously. It was definitely the cultural experience, I can tell you that! Here are some pictures of today, plus a few more of the porch. The sunshine in the middle of the storm yesterday, and the mist this morning was so lovely I couldn't resist. 

 (A dance demonstration by two boys)

(Katelyn and a little boy we made friends with... I don't think he knew what we were doing)

(But he did like patty-cake)

Coffee and Canada

I have never regularly drunk coffee before; partly because I never liked the taste (not even in ice cream or anything! Amazing, right?), and also the caffeine doesn't seem to affect me in the least. Then last year, during our 2 1/2 week long trip to Cameroon, I found that drinking coffee was a daily morning ritual observed by all in the Jackson Village, and so I took part, and enjoyed it quite a lot. But back in the States I fell back into my normal coffeeless routine.

Well, I now drink coffee every morning. As long as there's plenty of sugar, powdered milk (there's no real milk here), and Matinal, a chocolate mix, I absolutely love it. Maybe because the coffee is just better here, or perhaps because it seems so natural to get out of bed, get a lovely steaming cup of deliciousness, and sit on the porch listening to the birds (if you get up early enough). Either way, in the past few weeks, I have drunk more coffee than in my entire life. True story.

For the past few days Chris has been in Yaounde helping a summer team arrive and get together all their luggage. The 9 of them are going to Bambalang (about an hour or more from Bamenda) to help out the Groves, a missionary family who lives in the village, and stopped by today for lunch and a break from the long drive. Talking with them over jalaf rice (or however it's actually spelled - either way, it's quite tasty) and watermelon, I found out they were all from New Brunswick, Canada! Which was quite interesting; I'm finding that I unconsciously assume all white people we meet to be from the States, when in reality, there are a lot more places in the world than just America with white people. Surprise, surprise! In a way, it was weird being the ones welcoming newcomers; instead of my previous role of visitor, I am now one of the residents. I live in Africa! Wow.

The rest of the day saw us staying inside by the fire (I know! A fire! In summer...) as the rain poured down. Yesterday was humid and hot, so we should have expected a deluge. It stayed cold all evening, and so another cup of milked/sugared/chocolated-down coffee just seemed right. That and being able to talk to my family made the day quite complete. So until tomorrow, my friends.

Hakuna Matata

What a wonderful phrase... "Hakuna Matata" is actually quite the perfect motto for living in Africa, I must say. "It means no worries for the rest of your days..." Sitting on the porch of the Jacksons' home, looking out over Mile 4 of Bamenda (we live in Mile 3), it's hard to remember what worries, if any, we have.

I love this porch. Especially after a day in the market shopping and being incessantly harassed, for lack of a nicer word. Saturdays in the market are absolutely crazy, which is saying something, so it's a relief to come home and sit down without anyone grabbing your hand and/or asking you to marry them (Although today I was called "white girl" once or twice; quite a step up from "white man"). Hakuna matata. Besides the stress of going out and making your way in a foreign country, it's a perfect fit.

The Little Things

I don't really know what to write about... the past few days have consisted of up and downs, and a lot of small daily happenstances. We've been watching movies, reading our books we got from the Reading Room in Yaounde, and doing chores as the power goes on and off. Dinner is usually postponed until 7 or later because Fadi and Lum are fasting from sunup to sundown for Ramadan. Sometime in the next few weeks, before Ramadan ends, the whole family is going to join them in fasting... as well as we can, anyway. I don't know how they do it, but it looks like I'm going to find out!

Today we took a taxi into town to go dancing, stopping on the way to see about getting SIM cards for our phones, and getting soaked as we walked/ran through the rain to PresCafe for some chocolate cake and coffee to fortify our poor, wet souls. But when we arrived at dancing, there were cars and people everywhere. Upon peeking inside we saw a table up on the stage and bunch of important-looking people in hats sitting and talking. So no dancing today! But right outside is the stand where we always buy plantain chips, so it was worth the trip to town. Not that it's costly in any way - only a few hundred francs each way for Katelyn, Sarah, and I all together. I love this place. 

I feel like I should probably mention, and not just in passing, the food! Though I've already written plenty about eating chocolate and junk food, we've had plenty of Cameroonian food, some of which I find delicious, and some of it not so much... Fufu and jamma jamma, for example, which is a staple in most Cameroonian homes (so we've had it more than once). The fufu is a corn mush about the consistency of playdough, and jamma jamma is a mixture of vegetables and greens that taste like, as Liz (a teacher at the missionary school in Yaounde) put it so delicately, "someone mowed the lawn and put it in a bowl." I have to agree, although it's more akin to mowed seaweed than grass, in my humble opinion. 

But there have been plenty of African delicacies I've sampled and loved! For one, there's always a huge variety of fruit; we've been eating watermelon, pineapple, and papaya almost every day, and we just had some passionfruit yesterday that was quite delectable. And of course puff-puffs, which are by far my favorite Cameroonian treat. We also usually have a live chicken running around the yard waiting to be decapitated and gobbled up. They are everywhere here - wandering through the streets, being carried by people riding motor-taxis, or squirming in a bag brought by a house guest as a gift. I had the privilege of seeing Delphine, a woman who works in the Jackson's house as a cook, chop off a chicken's head the other day... a singular experience. But amazingly, it didn't put me off chicken at all - I still love it just as much as I did before. Good thing, too, because it's a common meal in Cameroon. So are potatoes, rice, avocados, and pepae, a spice we grow in the garden. We have plenty of American food here as well, plus our secret stashes of soda and candy, so it's quite the variety. 

Well, for not having anything to write about, I realize I've rambled on till it's longer than all my other posts. Oh well, I hope you've enjoyed my accounts of our everyday life here in Bamenda. And even if you didn't, well, there's more to come, I can assure you!