Grand Merci

Thanksgiving 2011

Back home, driving along the interstate over the Atchafalaya Basin could either be one of my favorite drives with its striking postcard-esque views of cypress trees and john boats against a beautiful South Louisiana sunset, or it could be one of the most painful drives -- where I could be trapped for hours and hours in a car with no way out. Once, I sat on the hood of my car for hours waiting for an ambulance to arrive - 20 feet from me in the opposite lane laid a man who was just killed in a motorcycle accident while at the same time and only a few hundred yards ahead a car had caught fire and was sending a black smoke geyser into the air. I was running out of gas. And I was pretty sure I was going to pee myself. Peace Corps life can sometimes – sometimes on a daily basis – bring on those same feelings of helplessness and complete frustration with things like the incredible amount of corruption that passes as an acceptable part of life, with the slow ‘development’, and with my own fickle motivation. But like those calming sunset drives across the Basin, without those other gross distractions and when I've looked around, life here is beautiful. And this past weekend, I celebrated Thanksgiving in Africa. I have had a lot to be thankful for during these past six months in Cameroon.

So like we do around the dinner table back home and like we did on Thanksgiving in Africa, I want to say a few things I’m thankful for… my little-big sister, Rebek, who’s become my personal secretary back home and doesn’t complain about it (too much), for having a Cameroonian prince host me for an American holiday and share a bonfire and fruits from his garden called ‘Love in a Cage,’ for climbing mountains a few hours from me that have volcanic Crater Lakes and small African tribes living atop them, for spending my next birthday at a black sanded beach and then climbing to the highest mountain peak in West Africa on Christmas, for whole grilled fish - eyes and all - and African prunes, for all of my super-duper talented and beautiful brothers and sisters, for text messages from some great Peace Corps friends that say things like ‘I’ll be waiting with a cold 33 and a flask of whiskey,’ let’s go midnite bowling,’ ‘you are my hero,’ and ‘thanksgiving at the prince’s treehouse,’ for pictures of my ridiculously cute nieces, for Cameroonians and their patience with me, for phone calls and letters from the fam and friends, for my Papi’s emails, for coffee and chicory, for big lizards and baby goats, and for the Peace Corps and for two out of its three principal "Goals" being about cultural exchange and learning. Grand merci.

(Having too much alone time makes me a little sentimental. Sorry.)

Three of my community host's children - Donnie, Grace, and Mona - at his home in Njombe. They're little cuties.