Just another day

6:30: Get up to my alarm. However, I’ve really been awake since the sun started to come up, around 6 AM. Open the shutters in my room and living room to let in light. However, my house faces northeast and all the large trees in my front yard and the morning fog that settles over the village block a lot of light from coming in the house. My house is always a bit dark in the morning until about 9:00.

6:35: Bathroom + BM, task number one. I have to search for my keys first though, so I can unlock the back door and get to the latrine. I have to remember to bring TP with me and my pissbucket (aka chamberpot) to pour into the latrine. If I forget, it starts to smell.

6:45: Prepare breakfast after washing hands: toast, made by in my frying pan on my two-burner gas camping cookstove, with strawberry and apricot jam and a cup of hot milk, made from two spoonfuls of dehydrated whole milk and one sugar cube. Add boiling water. Enjoy.

7:00: Begin to do dishes, which include those from this morning’s breakfast and those leftover from yesterday. It’s better to wait until they build up, even if this draws cockroaches because it conserves water. Last night, I had left water in my dirty dish tub and found a dead cockroach floating in it as soon as I started doing dishes. Gross. I have to dump that water and add new.
Since the water is not that dirty after finishing my dishes, and it feels like a waste to dump it, I decide to wash my lantern glasses, which are black and sooty after several nights of use without cleaning. This complicates things a bit, because the black soot flakes off, but then leaves a greasy residue in my dish washing tubs, which needs to be scrubbed off before I can leave them to dry.

7:21: Finally, heading out to take my bucket bath in my latrine. It’s been two days since I bathed and I need to look nice because I have a meeting this morning with the Inspecteur Generale of all the local elementary schools (kind of like a superintendant?) at 8 AM. Otherwise, I might not bother. Bring with me: bucket, about half-full with about 7 liters of water (I don’t need to condition my hair this morning, so I can use less water), shampoo, body wash, plastic cup I use to splash water on myself, towel, keys.

7:35: Done with bucket bath, head inside to dress. I’ve already mentally picked out an outfit because I’m nervous about time. Magloire said he’d come by my house at 7:45 so we could go to the meeting at 8 AM, and I want to be ready on time.

7:45: Dressed, hair combed, ready to go. Where is Magloire? I read while I wait – “The Fountainhead” by Ayn Rand, addictive.

7:55: Nervous because he hasn’t showed up and I don’t want to be late, I head out to the main road to try and meet him halfway so we won’t be late.

8:00: I wait for about five minutes, but then realize that maybe Magloire will come to my house from the other direction and maybe we’ll miss each other. I go back to home to wait for him on the front steps.

8:13: Magloire shows up. We walk to the Inspecteur’s office, very close to my house.

8:20: We reach the office of the Inspecteur. We are told to enter right away.

8:35: Meeting’s over. During the meeting, Magloire did most of the talking, explaining to the Inspecteur why we want to meet with the principals of all the local primary schools to recommence activities with the clubs de l’amitié. He agrees it’s a good idea. I didn’t say much, aside from admiring photos of the Inspector’s son in NYC (really it’s NYC I’m admiring); his son is a student at City College. Mentally, I remark that it is incredible that a Cameroonian salary, especially in this small town, can afford to send anyone to America for any amount of time. I wonder how he can afford it. Not to mention the incredible red tape one has to go through with passports, visa, etc.

8:45: Wanting to take part (maybe even help?) in the upcoming prenatal consultations that will occur on the 15th, I head over to the hospital to meet with the only doctor on staff. I’m told to wait.

9:00: Doctor will see me now. I explain that I’d simply like to observe, maybe even help with the prenatal consultations. No problem. Also, maybe I could come once a week and just observe how things are run? Again, maybe help if there’s a need? Sure thing. We arrange that I’ll come by every Monday, and come for prenatal consultations (every 15th of the month) and for child vaccinations (every 30th of the month).

9:10: Not having anything planned until 3 PM, I decide to head to centre-ville for the hell of it. Maybe I’ll eat something. I come across a mami who (like many others) has prepared beans, beignets. I stop for a bite.

9:30: I continue on towards the market area. That mami was very nice, but she didn’t have bouille, and I have a hankering for it. I locate other ladies who have prepared bouille, and I have a cup of it. Bouille is a kind of thick, starchy, warm semi-sweet broth. It’s mild, gentle, delicious. And comes in many varieties – I’ve had some that are citrus-y, with a smooth texture, and made from corn flour, others that are made with peanut flavor, more chunky, and made from rice. It’s all delicious.

[market in the morning. Notice the cream colored house in the background - this is a REALLY nice house for my village. You can kind of see the forest/savannah terrain mix in the background.]

While drinking my bouille, I introduce myself (as I’ve done many times already) to a few of the market ladies. I am Rebecca Hartog. No, I’m not a tourist. No, I came here alone, there were no other people with me when I came here (I don’t know why people always think I’ve come in some group with two or three other white people, but they’ve left me alone?). I am a volunteer with the Peace Corps, and I’ll be living here in Ngambe Tikar for two years. Yes two years is a long time (as if I needed a reminder). If a Cameroonian man proposed to me, would I accept? Well that depends, I think I would have to know him for at least a year before it came to that. Your brother? Hmm, I dunno… annnnnyway, gotta go. (Lord, the questions people ask)

9:45: Since I’m nearby Lydie’s house, I decide to do the Cameroonian thing and stop by to say hi. Instead, I find Lydie’s mom. She’s just been preparing food to sell at the market at lunchtime. Turns out she’s prepared some of my favorite foods – manioc leaves (“legumes”) and patates. I tell her I’ll stop by later in the afternoon, to save me some.

9:50: I finally walk home. Along the way, I’m greeted by many children, some in Tikar, some in French. I do my best to wave, or respond or be friendly back. The one thing I won’t respond to is “La blanche,” when said in French or in Tikar, which I only recently learned the word for. It drives me nuts. Bizarrely, I think I hear today kids calling out “le chinois” (The Chinese). This is a new one. Maybe I’m not hearing right.

10:00: Home, nothing much to do. I read “The Fountainhead” voraciously.

12:33: Start thinking that I should head to the centre-ville to eat, as I promised Lydie’s mom. But I’ve also determined that I’m going to finally do that protocol with the mayor that I’ve been putting off. I decide to do that first and then head to the market to try and find where Lydie’s mom is selling food. She had vaguely pointed “there.” I’m hoping people know well enough where she usually sells that I can just ask someone in the market area.

12:49: I arrive at the mayor’s office, am told to wait.

13:10: Mayor will see me now. I give him the protocol letter. He reads it. Soyez le bienvenue. Merci. A toute a l’heure.

13:15: Head to market to find Lydie’s mom. When I find her, she says there’s no more food left, but Lydie’s at home, with the food that she saved me. Sweet.

13:20: I arrive at Lydie’s house, she’s boiling the patates now. I sit and wait, not saying much. I don’t really know what to say to strike up conversation, and Lydie doesn’t offer any topics either. I notice that she’s shelling pistaches, so I offer to help. I tell her that the pistaches remind me of pumpkin seeds that we eat during Halloween. She’s familiar with the holiday, says that she had decorations for it this year. She disappears into her house and returns with the remains of her Halloween decorations from this fall. We have a good chuckle about Halloween.

13:45: mmmmm. Hot, boiled patates and mesengai (that’s Tikar for manioc leaves). Sooo good. Patates are kind of like potatoes, but just a bit sweeter, though not quite sweet enough to be sweet potatoes. The manioc leaves are crushed in a big wooden mortar and pestle and then boiled with oil and salt and a little piment – the result is kind of like steamed spinach, but way way more delicious.

14:00: At 15:00, Magloire, Lydie, and I have a meeting with a GIC, so I decide to just wait with Lydie until then, instead of going home before the meeting. I continue shelling pistaches, while Lydie goes inside to change.

14:30: We leave for the meeting with the GIC. I think it would only take about 5 minutes to walk there from Lydie’s house, but along the way, we stop to talk to people and we walk very slowly, since the sun’s roaring and it’s hot and it’s nice to avoid sweating.

14:48: We arrive at the GIC meeting, early.

15:00: The GIC meeting is supposed to start now, but only two members of the GIC are there, plus me, Lydie, and Magloire. We wait to see if more people will show up.

15:30: Now with only three members of the GIC present, we start the meeting. Magloire explains what he’d like to do – work towards developing the GIC more, so it can be more efficient, help combat poverty. At 16:00, another GIC member shows up (one hour late). At 16:20 (one hour and 20 minutes late), a fifth and final member shows up. This one speaks Tikar better than French, so the next 10 minutes are spent summarizing the meeting for her in Tikar. I’m lost, and bored. I twirl my hair.

16:45: Meeting’s over. Once, outside, Magloire asks if I understood everything that was said. Mostly, I say. Can you explain that part about the delegate from Ministry of Agriculture? He and Lydie spend about five minutes explaining it to me in slow French. Basically, he’s worthless and steals from the GICs he’s supposed to help. Fantastic. Corruption and Cameroon, apparently, go together like mesengai and patates, which is to say, very well.
Anyway, what’s the plan for tomorrow? Another meeting with a different GIC, at the same time as I had scheduled my Tikar lesson. I’ll try to find my tutor to reschedule, I say.

16:50: Mbatoussong Jean-Paul, my tutor, is not at home, but supposedly still at work. This seems unlikely to me, 5 PM is late in the evening to still be working. I probably won’t find him. Crap. I head home.

17:05: Almost home, I decide to detour towards Mbatoussong’s office, which is closeby my house, to see if he’s there. He is. Can we reschedule? No problem.

17:13: Home sweet home. I spend some time recording the day’s activities, I do this everyday. I like to have a record of what I’ve done so that when I feel depressed and like I haven’t done anything with my time here, I can look back and see exactly what I’ve done with my time here everyday. Then I read more of “The Fountainhead.”

18:13: Realizing that the sun is going down already, I decide to prepare dinner, even though I’m not hungry. I can prepare it now while it’s light and then eat later.

18:45: Dinner’s ready. I close the doors, but leave the windows open for the cool air. Since my windows finally have screens on them, I won’t be deranged by mosquitoes. I read by lamplight. The mayor had told me when I branched into his electricity that he’d turn on his generator every night from 6 PM to midnight. This has turned out to be less than true. It seems to come on erratically – maybe 2 or 3 times a week, usually between 6 and 7, until about 10. Sometimes, he turns it on in the middle of the day and then I run to use my computer. It’s a little bizarre.

19:15: Eat. Dinner is a salad of sautéed onion, garlic, and tomato with olives and fresh avocado with an oil and vinegar dressing. Yum.

19:45: Electricity comes on! What a surprise! It seems that the mayor turns on his generator just about every 3 days, and it was on last night. How peculiar that he’d turn it on tonight, especially when he told me earlier today that he was having problems with it. I go plug in my computer to charge. Then decide to play on my computer instead of read, since the electricity is on.

21:15: After playing computer games while listening to music for awhile, I decide to write this blog entry. When it’s done, I go back to playing computer games.

10:30: Electricity is turned off, so I switch back to reading by lamplight once my computer battery craps out.

1:20: Bed. But this is very late for me. Usually, lights out is no later than 10 PM. Tomorrow’s Saturday though, and I have nothing planned until 2 PM. I can “sleep in,” which means, if I’m lucky I’ll sleep til 8 AM.