Bounjour du Cameroun! In case you didn’t know, I up and moved to Cameroon, the hinge of the great continent of Africa! Cameroon is often referred to as “Africa in miniature” due to the country’s vast geographical and cultural varieties which are found here. I am serving with the U.S. Peace Corps for the next 27 months (well, now 26) and am part of the Small Enterprise Development program.
**Disclaimer – I wish I could say I possessed the great art of writing and/or blogging like many of my talented family and friends, but I do not. (If only that gene had gotten passed down instead of my large nose…thanks Papi.) So this here “blog” is merely the most convenient way for me to post an occasional update to all three family members who are (slightly) interested.Thanks to my brother Gabriel and Lucky Dime Press for setting it up for me. Also, another quick disclaimer – the views and opinions stated on this page are solely my own and in no way express the views or policies of the U.S. Peace Corps or the U.S. government.
So an update, you ask?
So after nearly a month, I’ve come to the conclusion that I think I am just in some remote part of Louisiana. In fact, I’m pretty sure if I walk two hours in any direction I would probably find some small Louisiana town like St. Martinsville or maybe Houma. Ok, so I exaggerate, but it’s impressive some of the similarities that Cameroon (or at least the town of Bafia where I am training – again Cameroon is very diverse depending on where you are) shares with south Louisiana – red beans and rice, okra and filet gumbo, beignets, extra hot and humid with lots of rain, giant potholes in the roads, huge cockroaches, plentiful agriculture, and lots of well-tanned people. People even talk and walk more slowly like we do in the South. This unexpected but welcomed cultural heritage discovery has been pretty fun. Looking at all the many similar marks the French left on both Louisianians and Cameroonians is pretty neat too (beignets -- a small example). And you thought I was going somewhere exotic…
Every morning I take a twelve minute walk from my host family’s home through corn fields and mud (and occasionally passing a monkey on a leash, baby goats, small children, and/or a tarantula), to join 42 other Peace Corps Trainees (we don’t become PC Volunteers until the end of training when we are sworn-in (the same swearing in that all U.S. Ambassadors and Foreign Service officers receive – thought you might like that Papi) and it’s contingent on us passing tests, including a French proficiency exam). There are 18 of us SED trainees and the rest are Education trainees. Our days are filled with French training, micro-finance training, health training, cross-cultural integration, etc., and beers that are twice the size of those in the U.S. and half the cost. Doesn’t sound too terrible, right? It’s not. (But I will omit all gastro-intestinal stories. Sorry Greg.)
Ok, that’s all I will bore you with today. At the end of next week, we find out where we will each be posted for the next two years (after training)! And on the following week, we go visit those posts for a brief week. Crazy. Maybe I’ll be able to form a whole sentence in French by then! A plus tard!
Sorry these first few pictures aren't wonderful - will work on it. The top one is from my walk to school. The second is to-be-lunch which I helped prepare last Sunday - gutted and clean those fish. And the third is a quick picture of my host family's outdoor kitchen.
No comments:
Post a Comment