Yesterday I dug a compost hole. Dad you would be so proud. I think, actually, this is one of the first things a lot of Peace Corps volunteers do when they first get to post, at least the agros. What to do now that I’ve gotten to post? Hmmm. Dig a compost hole. I do feel like I have so much to do though, so much to do, so little time. I know that this will be balanced by times where I have so much time and feel like I have little to do, but at least these first few weeks I’ve felt very busy and very divided, not knowing what to do…work on stuff in the house? Go shopping for stuff for the house? Write? Read and research agroforestry? Study language? Go walking and exploring the community? Go meet people. I’m trying to stay balanced and doing a bit of all, but the days do seem too short.
Yesterday, I made my own lunch, finally. Beautiful. How wonderful to cook for myself, to eat vegetables and lots of them. To cook with butter and not oil. To be able to control what I eat. I have been looking forward to that for a very long time, and I can’t wait to continue stocking my kitchen. I made fried okra with onions and garlic. In about a month, hopefully I’ll have some chickens too…mmm eggs.
It has been good to be able to help with the construction of my house though, especially the first few days. It was really good to 1) have something tangible to do instead of sitting around feeling like I’m in limbo, floating, waiting and 2) to be able to contribute to the house and help move it along, so that hopefully it get’s finished soon. So I helped with hours of painting, and putting in screens in windows, digging holes, etc.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Saturday December, 13th –Mafa language
I have decided today that I am going to have to get a Mafa tutor. While I had planned to only find a Fulfulde tutor and focus on that for the first 3-6 months until it’s more solid before beginning Mafa, I’m realizing that it’s just not practical. 85% of the village or more is Mafa, and while the also understand Fulfulde, all the conversations around me are Mafa. I have no idea what people are saying. This is slightly frustrating as I worry that I won’t get to progress as much in Fulfulde, and I hate the idea of starting from scratch again. I wanted to really leap ahead in Fulfulde at village, so that I became fluent-ish in the first 3 months or so, and when I found out the town was Mafa and not Foulbe, during site visit I was pretty sad, and jealous of the other volunteers placed in Foulbe villages where they were constantly surrounded by Fulfulde. But that’s not the reality. So instead I can look at it optimistically as an opportunity to learn yet another language and dive in with focus and effort. The good thing is that at least the two languages sound really different, so that I don’t think I will get them mixed up in terms of vocabulary. Mafa is very staccato-ish, with a lot of G’s and Z’s so much that I keep thinking it should be Gizigah, another Northern patois. However it could be possible that I cross grammar rules if they’re different, between the two. I just have to locate a Mafa and Fulfulde tutor in village now, perhaps 3 days/week Mafa, 3 days a week Fulfulde. It’s daunting realizing all the vocabulary I’ve learned for Fulfulde, now I will have to relearn…things like lamp and water and well and dog and thank you and how are you. But it can be done, and since it has to be done, I will do it. Language, indeed, is an opening into both a culture and acceptance. As I’ve seen with Fulfulde, if you speak someone’s patois, they are overjoyed and much more welcoming. And in addition, if you know how to say “how are you” they say “oh you know Fulfulde really well!” I try to say, “no no, my Fulfulde is little, it’s little’, and they argue, “no, no you know a lot, you must have been here for years and years”. And I say, “no, 2 months”. And they say, “No it’s not possible”. Ah languages. At least I love them. Even if I’ll have to be dedicating myself to a lot of work for a language I will never use again. Yet, it will be a key to developing relationships here, so of course, worth more than gold. But prayers, prayers, I will accept! J
Fete De Mouton (Dec 8-9)
One of the blessings of my post is that it is only about 30 minutes from Nassarao. And Jessie and Emily and I decided to go back to Nassarao to celebrate Fete de Mouton with our host families. This was made especially easy by the fact that my village is Christian and not many people celebrate it, and also the fact that my house was not finished and I had nowhere to sleep. So after arriving at post on the 5th, and bringing luggage and so on, checking in on the work being done, I was able to go, while they kept working. Oh what a joy. Emily and I, and Jessie as well to an extent, did not want to leave Nassarao. I would have given anything for that to be my post! It was really really hard for me, and the only reason I could keep it together saying good bye to my family, to the community was knowing I would be back four days later to stay with them and celebrate. So I was so excited to come back.
I had a new outfit for FdM, still had my hair braided and henna from swearing in, and the day consisted of getting to Nas early in the morning, after staying with Stephanie in Garoua the night before (queen of hospitality). We arrived and spent the next 6-7 hours walking around, visiting house to house, taking pictures, and eating, eating, eating. Mom, you would be so ecstatic, so ecstatic, that I ate more meat on those two days than, I think the whole past year or two. Seriously. I walked from my house, to a friends house, who said, come back at such and such time to eat, to Adam’s families house, who said come back at such and such time to eat, and then to another house, where the eating commenced. So it was seven houses in a row of sitting down, being served sheep and rice and other wonderful things and being told Nyamu, Nyamu Nyamu (eat eat eat). And I was so happy. However, by house 6, when I was told Djodu et Nyamu, and the plate brought out to me was the innards of a sheep, I couldn’t take it. I had one bite and then, luckily was saved by having another rendez-vous. (the same thing happened the next day, where by the last house in Garoua, Emily and I were presented with another plate of innards, and she said under her breath to me, “Oh my God I’m seriously going to throw up if I eat one more bite. I can’t do this,” in all seriousness. It was actually very humorous, except for the fact the quantity actually was making us sick.) Wow. So much lamb. And rice. But so much happiness, sitting with families, talking, eating together, taking photos. Such a celebration.
The following evening (after more visiting and eating) Emily, her host brothers and Rebecca’s host brother, Hamadou and I went into Garoua to watch the Fantasia at the lamido’s palace. (The lamido is the traditional regional Muslim leader.)
How I wish I had photos to post, or even better a video, or even better, how I wish you all were there to see. I just sat there and the whole time thought, I wish my family was here to see this, I wish my friends could see this, Here I am in North Cameroon, this is my life, and how I love life here. The fantasia is a traditional ceremony held at the lamido’s house, and consists of men dressed in traditional soldiers clothing, mounted on beautiful horses who race so fast from one end behind the mosque straight up to the lamido seated outside, where they rein up their houses, swearing their allegiance to the lamido, as they did in years past. Then the top 5 most beautiful horses in the town were presented. There was traditional music, and everyone dressed in their finest (have I mentioned how much I adore bu-bus?)
The one thing I didn’t get to do was play soccer with the guys at the field, which I had hoped to do, because my last two weeks I had started playing every soir with the guys, and it was such fun. But the next time I go to Nassarao…
As it is, now FdM is over, and I don’t know when I will be back, but I think both Em and I are hoping to go back maybe once a month or so, to visit. And I feel so blessed, sooo blessed, that I am so close.
I had a new outfit for FdM, still had my hair braided and henna from swearing in, and the day consisted of getting to Nas early in the morning, after staying with Stephanie in Garoua the night before (queen of hospitality). We arrived and spent the next 6-7 hours walking around, visiting house to house, taking pictures, and eating, eating, eating. Mom, you would be so ecstatic, so ecstatic, that I ate more meat on those two days than, I think the whole past year or two. Seriously. I walked from my house, to a friends house, who said, come back at such and such time to eat, to Adam’s families house, who said come back at such and such time to eat, and then to another house, where the eating commenced. So it was seven houses in a row of sitting down, being served sheep and rice and other wonderful things and being told Nyamu, Nyamu Nyamu (eat eat eat). And I was so happy. However, by house 6, when I was told Djodu et Nyamu, and the plate brought out to me was the innards of a sheep, I couldn’t take it. I had one bite and then, luckily was saved by having another rendez-vous. (the same thing happened the next day, where by the last house in Garoua, Emily and I were presented with another plate of innards, and she said under her breath to me, “Oh my God I’m seriously going to throw up if I eat one more bite. I can’t do this,” in all seriousness. It was actually very humorous, except for the fact the quantity actually was making us sick.) Wow. So much lamb. And rice. But so much happiness, sitting with families, talking, eating together, taking photos. Such a celebration.
The following evening (after more visiting and eating) Emily, her host brothers and Rebecca’s host brother, Hamadou and I went into Garoua to watch the Fantasia at the lamido’s palace. (The lamido is the traditional regional Muslim leader.)
How I wish I had photos to post, or even better a video, or even better, how I wish you all were there to see. I just sat there and the whole time thought, I wish my family was here to see this, I wish my friends could see this, Here I am in North Cameroon, this is my life, and how I love life here. The fantasia is a traditional ceremony held at the lamido’s house, and consists of men dressed in traditional soldiers clothing, mounted on beautiful horses who race so fast from one end behind the mosque straight up to the lamido seated outside, where they rein up their houses, swearing their allegiance to the lamido, as they did in years past. Then the top 5 most beautiful horses in the town were presented. There was traditional music, and everyone dressed in their finest (have I mentioned how much I adore bu-bus?)
The one thing I didn’t get to do was play soccer with the guys at the field, which I had hoped to do, because my last two weeks I had started playing every soir with the guys, and it was such fun. But the next time I go to Nassarao…
As it is, now FdM is over, and I don’t know when I will be back, but I think both Em and I are hoping to go back maybe once a month or so, to visit. And I feel so blessed, sooo blessed, that I am so close.
December 4th Swearing in
Swearing in was held in Pitoa on December 4th. It was recorded and apparently on national television, although I haven’t seen it! I wish so much you all could access is somewhere, that it would be on the internet, but don’t think that’s going to happen. I think there is a website connected to the US Embassy website, just for the Grand North Peace Corps, and I’m sure there would be photos on there if you wanted to check it out. The Ambassador came, the Governor of the North, the Prefet of the Benoue district, and many many other officials, all who arrived in a cavalcade of posh cars. Our host families came, which was wonderful, and the ceremony was very enjoyable, at least for me. It was very official and formalized, followed by a meal with our host families at a local bar in Pitoa, which was nice, but ended up being much shorter than I had anticipated, as families tended to leave as soon as the food was finished.
December 17, 2008
Dear all,
I realize I have not posted for so long, and if there’s one thing I’ve heard over and over for missionaries and those serving overseas, it’s that communication with loved ones back home is so vital. You must keep up correspondence with those at home, and not disappear off the face of the planet. However this becomes more and more difficult as life becomes more real here.
That being said, these past two weeks have been very busy! Swearing in was December 4th in Pitoa. Then moving to our posts the day after. I have spent the past few weeks here and there, trying to build a house from nothing, sleeping on various floors each night, as the construction continues on my house. It is about finished now, but not quite. Another round of paint and last touches on the inner wall, will make it a little more livable. And of course getting some furniture. Because I am opening a post, I have a brand new house, yet it is entirely empty of furniture, of pots and pans, of sheets, everything. It has been fun slowly gathering things, deciding what is absolutely crucial, what will come later. While I’m definitely used to roughing it and sleeping on the floor from time to time, camping and such, 7 days of sleeping on concrete floors in Mafa Kilda, Sanguere Paul (where Jessie is posted) and Garoua is starting to do a number on my neck and back, haha, which have been perpetually sore for the past days. I did finally get a cotton mattress, which helps a little. The bed may or may not come next week if I go back to the big Ngong market and find the guy I bargained with last week for a bed! It has been fun though, sometimes a joy, to hunt out every little thing—a ladle, two plates, silverware, cooking pots, commissioning carpenters to build furniture (and being able to design it yourself, as modest as it may be!), buying fabric to sew curtains, a canerie to hold water. This joy and fun is equally balanced by frustrating from time to time, a desire to just have everything done, and be comfortable in a home that is mine. To just have everything in place. It is hard to focus on meeting the community, learning things, going to meetings, studying language and agroforestry when you don’t have a homebase. However, it will come, and all that is necessary is patience, which I am happy to exercise.
While it is hard to feel ready to work when the house and life is so transitional, I have been able to explore my town and surrounding villages, attend meetings and introduce myself and get my face out there. That is certainly what this stage is about, and I do not plan on starting any actual projects with groups until at least February or March. This is highly recommended and I can’t even imagine jumping in to try to start something before you truly know the community, know needs and desires of the community, know who is good to work with, who is trustworthy and passionate about work, and have gained the trust of the community. More and more, since I have arrived in Mafa Kilda I am struck by how short 2 years is. (Especially setting up a house from nothing) It’s so little time, so little time. Only two growing seasons, you get to know the community, it becomes home, you start doing real work, and then 2 years is up.
I have been reading some masters thesis from a French school that has done research in Mafa Kilda, and thinking about how they were only here for 3 months and are attempting to explain the agriculture system of the North of Cameroon, and describing the social structure of the village, how can you possibly understand such things after only 3 months. It makes me think a little differently about such field research for graduate school too. Two years is too short itself.
But I apologize for not being up on correspondence during these past few weeks. And with that transistion, I realize I missed the window even for Christmas cards. It doesn’t help that it still feels like summer, and not at all like Christmas, and won’t feel like Christmas when it actually arrives! But I know I have also missed some birthdays of some very dear friends, and I was hoping to stay up on writing. Just didn’t happen with the moving. Aggh! But Cat, Natalia, Diana, happy birthday! I love you. Also have been very frustrated with the fact that there is no real reso for cell phones at my village, and I haven’t talked to my family for 2 weeks. It’s too long! But I love you all, and am still doing well, and will do better at the correspondence once settling in and routine arrives!
I realize I have not posted for so long, and if there’s one thing I’ve heard over and over for missionaries and those serving overseas, it’s that communication with loved ones back home is so vital. You must keep up correspondence with those at home, and not disappear off the face of the planet. However this becomes more and more difficult as life becomes more real here.
That being said, these past two weeks have been very busy! Swearing in was December 4th in Pitoa. Then moving to our posts the day after. I have spent the past few weeks here and there, trying to build a house from nothing, sleeping on various floors each night, as the construction continues on my house. It is about finished now, but not quite. Another round of paint and last touches on the inner wall, will make it a little more livable. And of course getting some furniture. Because I am opening a post, I have a brand new house, yet it is entirely empty of furniture, of pots and pans, of sheets, everything. It has been fun slowly gathering things, deciding what is absolutely crucial, what will come later. While I’m definitely used to roughing it and sleeping on the floor from time to time, camping and such, 7 days of sleeping on concrete floors in Mafa Kilda, Sanguere Paul (where Jessie is posted) and Garoua is starting to do a number on my neck and back, haha, which have been perpetually sore for the past days. I did finally get a cotton mattress, which helps a little. The bed may or may not come next week if I go back to the big Ngong market and find the guy I bargained with last week for a bed! It has been fun though, sometimes a joy, to hunt out every little thing—a ladle, two plates, silverware, cooking pots, commissioning carpenters to build furniture (and being able to design it yourself, as modest as it may be!), buying fabric to sew curtains, a canerie to hold water. This joy and fun is equally balanced by frustrating from time to time, a desire to just have everything done, and be comfortable in a home that is mine. To just have everything in place. It is hard to focus on meeting the community, learning things, going to meetings, studying language and agroforestry when you don’t have a homebase. However, it will come, and all that is necessary is patience, which I am happy to exercise.
While it is hard to feel ready to work when the house and life is so transitional, I have been able to explore my town and surrounding villages, attend meetings and introduce myself and get my face out there. That is certainly what this stage is about, and I do not plan on starting any actual projects with groups until at least February or March. This is highly recommended and I can’t even imagine jumping in to try to start something before you truly know the community, know needs and desires of the community, know who is good to work with, who is trustworthy and passionate about work, and have gained the trust of the community. More and more, since I have arrived in Mafa Kilda I am struck by how short 2 years is. (Especially setting up a house from nothing) It’s so little time, so little time. Only two growing seasons, you get to know the community, it becomes home, you start doing real work, and then 2 years is up.
I have been reading some masters thesis from a French school that has done research in Mafa Kilda, and thinking about how they were only here for 3 months and are attempting to explain the agriculture system of the North of Cameroon, and describing the social structure of the village, how can you possibly understand such things after only 3 months. It makes me think a little differently about such field research for graduate school too. Two years is too short itself.
But I apologize for not being up on correspondence during these past few weeks. And with that transistion, I realize I missed the window even for Christmas cards. It doesn’t help that it still feels like summer, and not at all like Christmas, and won’t feel like Christmas when it actually arrives! But I know I have also missed some birthdays of some very dear friends, and I was hoping to stay up on writing. Just didn’t happen with the moving. Aggh! But Cat, Natalia, Diana, happy birthday! I love you. Also have been very frustrated with the fact that there is no real reso for cell phones at my village, and I haven’t talked to my family for 2 weeks. It’s too long! But I love you all, and am still doing well, and will do better at the correspondence once settling in and routine arrives!
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