mango season!

One of the perks of living in Cameroon, so close to the equator, is the tropical fruit. Pineapples have been coming up in a steady stream from the southern jungle since I arrived at post, but it's been a while since I'd eaten a mango. That changed yesterday, when I bought two at the market (for 50 cfa each, the equivalent of 10 cents).

Since being in country, I've become adept at eating the juicy fruit. I've also discovered that we Caucasians typically are allergic to a chemical in the peels. Therefore, the main goal of my method is to avoid touching the peel, or else my lips swell. Even if I diligently avoid the peel, but over-indulge on too many mangos, my lip tingles for a while, but it's always worth it.

So here's how to eat a mango: Slice as thick a slice as possible along the flat side of the seed. Cut a grid into the slice, then invert the slice so the squares poke out. Eat the juicy squares, then repeat on the other side of the seed. Now you have a seed, surrounded by lots of good mango-meat and a strip of peel. Cut the remaining peel off by drawing a knife around the fruit: at this point, your hands get sticky. Eat the rest of the mango directly off the seed. Now wash your face, because it's probably obvious you just enjoyed a mango.

I ate my mango with some oatmeal this morning. I know the oatmeal doesn't look too great next to the colorful fruit, but it's an essential part of this Sunday breakfast.

boukarou barbecue one saturday

Sam hired one of her villagers to build a boukarou (Cameroonian gazebo) in her front yard. A couple weekends ago, Sebastian and Allen were both in town, so we decided it was the best time to inaugurate the boukarou's mud-brick barbecue. Sam's village is about four kilometer's from my house, so we bought all the fixings and moto-ed out to her house.

We made cheeseburgers, with many of the same fixings as our New Year's Dinner. We made the patties small but thick, so that they wouldn't fall through the grate/grill. I think we've perfected the burger PC-style, except for one thing: slices of baguette just don't pass for buns in my book. Sam generously donated a cake mix and frosting, so we ate a delicious desert afterwords. I think I alone ate a fourth of the cake.

The villager built the boukarou all on his own, and the center pole isn't even touching the ceiling (they added it as a hammock support). I'd like to see the one-man process of assembling and lifting the roof into place sometime.

In the photos, you'll see Yousef (the sole Cameroonian present this time) and Josh, a friend of another volunteer who was traveling through, as well as Sam, Sebastian, Allen, and I. Buddy (Allen's puppy) came too, but Honey had to stay home with a hurt ankle. This was a few weeks ago, and she's better now.

It was wonderful, relaxing afternoon outside, and I look forward to more barbecues to come.

pesto on tuesday

Feeding myself takes more far more energy here than it ever did as a college student (or as a kid growing up: thanks mom and dad!) Without a fridge, I have to go to the market a couple times a week to get fresh ingredients. Without many of the pre-made jars and mixes I used in the states, I cook from scratch. My cooking skills have improved, since I’m forced to work with what’s available, and I have time to experiment. I have to plan and prepare each meal, and I therefore can usually rattle of the last week’s meals. (In the states, I used to forget what I had for dinner by breakfast the next day.) Because cooking takes up so much of my time and energy, and I’m enjoying learning how, I’d like to start sharing some of the recipes.

Today I loosely followed a recipe from the Peace Corps Cameroon cook book, Chop Fayner (pidgin for “eat well”), to make pesto. What I ended up with passes for pesto, but I was missing a couple ingredients, which I think would’ve greatly improved it. The recipe calls for a blender (ha, Chop Fayner, you kid) but I finely chopped and ground everything instead. I think I would actually recommend this archaic method over having to clean all the blender pieces and sharp blades.

So, here’s the recipe I modified from Chop Fayner:

1 cup fresh basil, chopped (500 cfa worth)
¼ cup olive oil (available at a supermarché in your regional capitol)
¼ cup grated parmesan cheese (thanks Mom for that package!)
4 cloves garlic
¼ cup crushed pine nuts (thanks Stephanie!)
Generous pinch of dried parsley
3 tablespoons melted butter*
Salt to taste

Chop the basil and garlic finely. Crush the pine nuts (this was easy because they are a soft nut). Combine everything, and toss with warm pasta. Yum! *When I first made the pesto, I did not bother going out to buy butter. I ate the second half for dinner, but this time bought some butter on the way back from a walk with Honey. It was better with the butter, but still tasted leafy, like the basil was taking over.

I think I’ll be trying again soon, since I still have pine nuts leftover. I’d like to perfect the recipe.

to visit, or to be visited

Since school is rough, I started planning a trip home for June. The school year ends with May, and June 7th will be my first anniversary in country. Northwest weather is best in the summer. The appeal of a trip to the states was to taste all I've been missing: see family and friends, eat sushi and strawberries, windsurf and sail, go hiking in the gorge, and communicate in my native language.

However, I'm suddenly reinvigorated about life in Cameroon, because of my upcoming job switch. If I leave in June for the land of plenty, I'll lose the new wave of motivation and energy I have for work here. Instead, I hope to start working at the Women's Center in June. Maybe by the time summer tourism ends and flight prices go down, I'll be ready for a visit.

If you'd like to see me before then, please consider a visit here! I hope to visit all ten regions of Cameroon before leaving, and would love to do some of the touristy things with you (climb Mt. Cameroon, safari with elephants and girafes, visit the jungle and coast...) My post is a relatively luxurious city, but we can visit villages too. You have to get some shots to come here, but, you won't have to hire a travel agent or an interpreter!

Moving On

Once we returned from Christmas break, I’d been in Cameroon for seven months. I was feeling discouraged about my life and work here. I have detailed some of the challenges at my lycee before: class sizes of 60-90 students, having eleven total classes and seeing each once every two weeks, teaching only computer theory and no practical classes, the list goes on. These problems have continued, and I’m sure would continue through my next year of service, if I hadn’t decided to leave.

Let’s back up for a minute: In mid February, I traveled to Yaoundé to participate in the Education Program’s Steering Committee. I thought the meeting went well: we discussed ways for volunteers to share resources, debated the kind of work education volunteers should be involved in, and made some delicious quiche. In one of the meetings I mentioned that I can’t take on much as far as secondary projects, not because I teach too many hours, but because I just have too many students. I added it up: I’m expected to evaluate about seven hundred and thirty children every sequence. A sequence is six weeks, which means I see them a total of three times, including a test. (I’ve actually started scheduling my tests outside class. They’re used to having to come to school on Saturday morning, but losing my weekend makes the following week pretty rough.) Our boss, in charge of the education program, said he knows I’m stuck teaching theory, and then said that he thinks they’ll have to close the post if the school doesn’t need a practical, computer literacy teacher. He added, after I leave, of course.

So I came back to Ngaoundéré with all my dissatisfactions validated. Peace Corps requires our bosses to come visit us at post once a year: my visit was coming up soon after the meeting. I knew I was unhappy at lycee, and once my boss said he’d close the post, I knew he’d be open to the idea of my leaving. So, I started brainstorming options. The most obvious alternative is to work as a lab monitor at my current lycee. However, I’ve realized why I’m not working there already: they don’t need me. The lab is fully staffed with capable Cameroonians. I thought about the Centre Socio Menager, where I’ve been teaching one hour a week. I like the principal there, the class size, and the all-practical course. I considered the bilingual school: I hear they have a nice computer lab, but I was worried I’d encounter the same problems again. Michelle told me about the Centre de Promotion des Femmes (Center to Promote Women), and that they teach computer classes there. We went to investigate.

They teach a computer training course to adults (the class I observed had two men out of a dozen students). The lab holds fifteen or twenty computers, of varying ages. I met the two men who currently teach the classes: Yannick and Eduard. I explained that I am busy at the lycee for now, but I was researching options for the summer. I didn’t want to commit to anything yet, and feel that since the school year is practically over, I’d rather finish it. By visit’s end, I’m sold. These men are nice, professional, and excited to work with me. The facility is great for Cameroon, and the class’s focus is perfect: the two month course to prepare students for a career as a secretary.

So, for my site visit, I introduced my boss to the Centre de Promotion des Femmes (CPFF). I think he was impressed by Yannick and Eduard: he said he rarely meets such young, motivated Cameroonians. On a broad level, Peace Corps Cameroon Education is trying to move away from lycee teaching, and into teacher training programs. We think this is a much more sustainable form of development. He said I should finish the year at lycee, but that working at the CPFF is the kind of development Peace Corps wants to be involved in.

Now that I know next year will be different, I feel capable of finishing the school year. The last remaining hurtle is leaving. Everyone knows the typical Peace Corps service lasts two years. I don’t want my school to be offended that I decided not to finish. However, I think I can explain my reasons to the handful of people who’ve become my friends. Especially to my counterpart, who has proved to be a supportive friend through my struggles. Since I’ll still be in Ngaoundéré, I’ll still maintain the friendships.

I feel pretty lucky to live in a city here. Sometimes I regret not having a village experience, but in village I would not have had so many alternatives to lycee work. So, once again, I’m excited to be in Ngaoundéré and motivated to make the best of my short opportunity here.