Hope everyone had a good week! Lots to report on my end and I’m feeling a bit lazy so please excuse the randomness of this entry. Ok here we go…

I.

I finished up with the en brusse vacs on Thursday and it was by far my favorite day. I think the main reason it was fun was because it was the first time I’d been to these particular places and they were way way way off the beaten path. We took a moto and I think it goes without saying it was a bumpy ride (almost fell once and we had to get off and walk the bike a couple of times because the path was impassable). The first place we stopped at was a sort of seasonal village called Ngah. Basically people who have homes in Bankim Central (where I live) who have farms in the bush move their families out to Ngah and set up camp for the harvest. Some people do stay there all year around so as a result they live fairly secluded lives, in fact some of the kids have never seen white people before and when they saw me that day they burst out crying. Sometimes this makes me feel a little bad, but the good news is the adults tend to think it’s hilarious and so it ends up being a good way to break the ice. Ngah probably has a total population of 20-25 people according to Mbokas (including kids) and everything is mudbrick and thatched roofed. However, the real draw for me is the landscape. I’m sure it helped that we had a beautiful day for traveling but it was gorgeous. It’s right at the bottom of this huge mountain range and the backdrop is absolutely breathtaking. It was one of those moments when I was reminded just how beautiful a country Cameroon really is. But anyways back to the story… we got to Ngah and it was a ghost town because everyone was out in the farms so we went out and rounded up as many people as we could find and had them all gather together so I could give me schpeel. By day three of this Mbokas and I were like a well oiled machine and my talk on Peace Corps approach to development with Mbokas’ translation went great, so that was a nice confidence booster.

Next stop was in Klong and we did the same thing again, but under a tree this time. I felt very Peace Corps cliché giving an animation under a tree in the center of town but it was really fun and apparently well received because afterwards I got to meet the traditional chief of the village and he really liked what I had to say and was pumped about me coming out every month to work with his village. I have to say it’s very encouraging when I go somewhere or when I’m in Bankim and the people in charge are really invested in the well being of their community. It’s not always the case, but when it is it makes my job a whole hell of a lot easier. Side note about the chief of Klong; he was sporting a billabong taxi cab hat. I had no idea that surf brands were so dignified, but when I told him that my friends back in America wore Billabong stuff too it seemed to make him happy.

The final two stops were tiny Mbororo homesteads with one or two families each, complete with an army of kids. When we got to the first one I heard someone calling my name “Madame Kate, Madame Kate!” and I turned around to see one of the men I work with from MBOSCUDA coming out to greet me. Even though he doesn’t speak any French and I don’t’ speak any Fulfulde he was still really excited to see me and He showed me around his compound and introduced me to his family. It was encouraging to see how far we’ve come with this particular group. When I first got there I was really nervous and I suspect they were too because Ralph told me I would be the first women to work with them on a regular basis and they practice very rigid gender roles as part of their culture. I know we still have a long way to go (especially after our last meeting, I’ll get there in a little bit), but I think we’ve started to build a little trust which is a very good thing.

Random comment about this trip; I saw my first seriously malnourished kids. There are a lot of kids near where I live who are thin and you can see their ribs and there are also a lot of chubby kids with big bellies, but not any that I’ve seen have been textbook malnutrition (Merasmus and Kwashiorkor sp???). This trip though I came across twin boys who had definite cases of Merasmus (shout out to Stephanie for teaching me to be able to identify it J ). So this is what happened, Mbokas was giving vaccinations and I was weighing kids when I saw this woman holding twins sort of towards the back of the crowd. She had one on her hip and one on her back and they were really tiny so I just assumed that they were under 1 years old (we only weigh kids under a year old) and went to ask the mother if I could weigh them for her. She said no because they were too old which I thought was odd so explained we can weigh up to 12 months and she said no that they were 2 and a half. I was shocked… they couldn’t even walk and if I had to guess by looking I would have said they were 5 or 6 months at the most. I told Mbokas about it and he talked to her about it and encouraged her to feed them more and bring them into the Health Center to get checked out but I’m afraid she won’t do it. Looking at those kids and looking at the mother who was stick thin as well made me so sad. I don’t think that she’s a bad mother and I think if she had food to give she would or if she had money to go to the hospital I’m sure she would do that too, but the reality is that she probably doesn’t. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to watch your kids starving to death. Now I should say that this scenario is certainly not true of everyone in the area and I do in fact know people with big families where the kids are healthy, it’s just that this situation is a reminder of exactly why family planning is so important to talk about.

III.

My MBOSCUDA meetings were interesting this week. The women decided to cancel the meeting an hour before because too many of them were sick including Rahinatou , my translator, but they didn’t tell me and I was all ready to go when I found out the meeting was a no go. It was kind of annoying, but it was very Cameroonian. C’est la vie!

I had a lot of time to kill now and I was in the neighborhood so I decided to drop in and say hello to Abdulie (the President of MBOSCUDA) to see how he was feeling (he had a double hernia operation about three weeks ago). Turns out he’s doing really well and was excited to tell me that he was going to try and make it out to the meeting the next day. (side note Abdulie speaks English and normally translates for me, needless to say I was excited for him to be there too… communication has been a major challenge without him) He asked me to catch him up with what he’d missed so I went over the needs assessment stuff we had done in the men’s group and then what the women’s group was up to too. He seemed pretty happy with everything and I was happy he was happy, but just as I was packing up and about to walk out the door he dropped the bomb on me. Sometimes I find that Cameroonians have a hard time coming right out with it. They’ll beat around the bush for a long time before they get to saying what’s really on their mind, and this was definitely the case here. I have no doubt he knew what he wanted to say from the beginning, but instead of saying we made polite small talk and recaps for an hour before he said anything.

Apparently the problem is that some of the men are refusing to allow the women to go to the meetings because we’ve changed the meeting place from someone’s house to the youth center. Before I got to post apparently the guy I replaced suggested that they could meet there and got permission and a room from the catholic mission, and left me all the contacts to go ahead with the move, so I just assumed that he had talked to everyone and it was ok. Apparently though that wasn’t really the case and now some of the men have concerns.

So I sat back down in my chair and Abdulie and I talked about it end came to the conclusion that we needed to bring it up at the next men’s meeting and see what the majority of people were thinking and then go from there. As far as he was concerned the is no reason why the women can't meet at the youth center, but sadly I found out the next day, he is one of very few people who feel that way, and it looks like we’re going to have to nix the plan. Which makes me sad because the facility could have been really helpful (you know, blackboards desks and tables tend to be helpful when you’re trying to learn a new language)

It was surreal to be sitting in this meeting listening to men talk about whether or not their wives should be allowed to leave the house for one hour once a week. Finally after about 45 minutes I said as delicately as I could that almost everyone in this room told me the first week during introductions that their goals were to educate their wives and children and that this was one way to get there. I was trying to remind them that you can’t really move forward if there’s no room for even a little change. I don’t know if I got through to them and at some points it got pretty heated. I was worried that maybe this was gonna cause the dynamics between the group and me to backslide a little, but now that a couple of days have passed and people are still being friendly to me and greeting me at the market I think we’ll be ok. It’s kind of like how moms have that magic ability to be yelling at you one min and then pick up the phone and be absolutely delightful with whoever is on the other end.

V.

Beamer is adjusting well to Bankim. My neighbors are starting to come around to him and everyone comments on our daily afternoon walks. I’ve been taking him for a walk every afternoon when the temperature cools off to give him a chance to get out of the compound and release some energy and people thinks really funny. Normally people only keep dogs to guard their house so it’s a bit strange to see one walking through town on a leash. I had to laugh the other day because just as we were coming back from our walk the kids next door came running out with their goats all leashed up. They were laughing and carrying on say look the goats are like Beamer. It was too cute!

The only problem I’m having is that he’s chewing on everything, myself included. I’ve made him a couple of chew toys and given him some bones, but for some reason gnawing on my tennis shoes and table legs seems to be more fun for him.

In other news, he has fleas again and I myself have found a bunch of suspicious bites on me which I suspect are fleas as well. It seems inevitable that the dogs going to have fleas, but I need to figure out what to do with myself on this front.

VII.

We had the first rain of the season yesterday. It was a torrential downpour that came out of nowhere and lasted about 20 min. Afterwards I went outside and the ground had soaked up everything in a matter of minutes. If I hadn’t see it raining with my own eyes I wouldn’t have even believed it. Even so the rain was exciting and its been the talk of the town for the past 24 hours. I have to confess that I’m ready for the heat to die down a little. The mud and noisy tin roof I could live without but it’ll be nice to be able to catch rain water instead of pulling it from the well outside for a change.

Pancakes, Puppies, and Parades

MY TIKAR WOLF

Lots to report this week first of which is I have a puppy. After a short and unfortunate stay in Mayo Darlé puppy has returned to Bankim and is staying with me. Basically unbeknownst to Aislynn the reason there are no dogs in The Darlé is because dogs tend to get stoned to death on a fairly regular basis. After her counterpart’s dog ended up with a large hole in the back of its head last week she decided for his own good, she needed to find the dog a new home.

So here we are, I talked it over with my neighbors and eventually we worked out an arrangement so that he can stay in the compound. It’s not the optimal setup because he has to stay in the house or on a chain during the day, but he can run around at night after the final prayer of the day. The issue is that in Islam dogs are considered unclean (I share a house with a very devote Islamic family) so if you get dog hair on you (or you touch someone who touched a dog i.e. the 2 year old, and he gets hair on you), you have to wash and change your cloths before praying (which adds up when you pray 5 times a day). Or if a dog passes over a place of prayer you can no longer pray there. I’m trying to be culturally sensitive and not piss off the neighbors, but sometimes I just don’t get it, I mean the man’s a vet, he works with animals for a living. I’ve decided to just chalk it up to something I’ll never understand and as of now it looks like I have a new four-legged roommate.

I decided to name him Beamer and I know what you’re thinking… come on Kate, not the most original Hokie Dog name, but even so I’m pretty sure he’s the only Beamer in Cameroon (maybe even on the continent) so I should get some points back for that ;) Kerry and Haddison, the kids in the third apartment, have started to call him my little Tikar Wolf (after the Tikar tribe) and I find it to be quite endearing.

One good thing about having a dog is that now I have a reason to go walking down some of the random paths I’ve wanted to check out. The other day we ended up out at some random person’s coffee farm at sunset and it was beautiful. I can’t even do it justice in words, it was just one of those “Peace Corps was the best choice I’ve ever made” moments!

YOUTH WEEK

Last Thursday was the official Youth day in Cameroon. The actual event, a 3-hour parade of children marching to the National Anthem on repeat in 100 plus temperatures wasn’t that exciting, but I did enjoy seeing all of my neighbors in their pressed and ironed school uniforms. You could tell that they were really proud of their schools and they were all smiles and giggles when I told them I came just to see them. It was a fun time despite the heat and next year I hope to be able to incorporate some Peace Corps work into the festivities.

IN TO THE WILD

Let’s see, other things… Oh ya! Mbokas (one of the nurses I work with at the health center) and I took our show on the road this week and went en brusse (into the bush) to give baby vaccinations. We went to two villages on Monday and two Tuesday and then I’m scheduled to go to a couple on Thursday. I’m basically doing the same thing, registering and weighing babies, but this time I’ve been asked to do small animations on child-maternal health. For this month, because it’s my first time, I’m just doing the basic introductions. My name is Kate, I’m American, I work for Peace Corps, blah blah blah. It’s the usual bit but I don’t mind doing it because it's good practice for my French and with working with a translator. I use a storyboard to explain Peace Corps' Approach to development and I have a picture of my family that I pass around which keeps the audience paying attention for most of the talk. I do have to say though that every time I pass around the Millman family photo without fail some makes a comment about how handsome my brothers are, and asks are they married which then leads to someone asking me if I’m married followed by shock, awe and confusion when I say that I’m not. Every time… even in another hemisphere I can’t get away from it ;)

IHOP YOU HOP

Chez Moi (my house) became the international house of Pancakes this week when I doled out enough banana and potato flap jacks to feed an army. I decided since yesterday was Fat Tuesday and I had been promising Haua to cook something for her for months now, Mardi Gras and Free Pancake Day were just the excuse I needed show off my culinary skills (which subsequently are limited to pancakes and spaghetti). So I spent a couple hours in the kitchen and then went to make the rounds with the neighbors in the afternoon to serve up some good old fashion, made from scratch, American Pancakes. I used honey for syrup and they were a huge hit with everyone from the screaming babies to the husbands. In fact I was even invited to talk to the husband of three of the wives in his “Big Man” salon (Cameroonian equivalent to the living room you don’t actually use unless you’re having important company for dinner). It was the first time I’d been invited to talk him and I was a little nervous, but he was really nice and asked (slash told me) I was to teach his wives to make these little American cakes because he liked them so much. When I told him next time I would put chocolate in them his eyes lit up like a five year old (I wanted to laugh so hard, but I locked it up)

SHAKE WHAT YOUR MAMA GAVE YA

This story is too good not to tell you all, but you’re either going to laugh or scoff so be warned…

Last week I met with this new women’s group for the first time because one of my neighbors is the president and she invited me to come speak. They call themselves Femme de Bamoun (The Bamoun Women), and they’re a group of women from the Western Bamoun Tribe who meet once a week on Wednesdays afternoons. They have a small tantine (money collection), but I get the feeling, like most women’s groups, the meetings are held mostly for the social aspect because most of these women rarely leave their homes. With that in mind I really shouldn’t have been so surprised about what was coming.

So they took roll, collected money, I gave a little talk, and then the dancing started. For those of you who know me well (or went to college with me), you know I’m a little self conscious about my dancing skills or complete lack thereof (something about the hands, I never know what to do with my hands), so needless to say I was bit hesitant to jump into the dance circle when it started. Unfortunately for me they weren’t buying the old “I'll just sit this one out” excuse and when the polite refusal didn’t work and I was physically lifted out of my seat by a very large woman. I had no choice but to go for it, the only problem was that I didn’t know the traditional Bamoun dance and once I learned it I realized I don’t exactly have the anatomy to pull it off.

I should say before I go any further that in my opinion people in Bankim are all about the butt (I think it has to do with the breastfeeding factor), the curvier the better and let me tell you, they know how to shake it. I on the other hand have very limited booty shakin skills, surprising I know ;) After what I felt was enough time to appease the group, I was trying to subtly slip back into my seat when I felt two hands right on my butt and hips swinging them to the beat. I turned around and saw the same woman who pulled me out of my seat to begin with yelling at me over the singing that I wasn’t doing it right, and that this is how it’s done. I was a little mortified at first but when I realized she honestly just wanted to teach me how to dance and also that she wasn’t going to give up until I gave it a full hearted effort I had no other option except to go for it and that my friends is how I learned one of the Traditional Bamoun circle dances. Now there’s talk about me dancing with their group in the Women’s Day Parade for all the Big men and leaders in town, but I don’t know about that one, we’ll have to wait and see.

A Busy Week

Well I guess I should be careful what I ask for, because following my complaining last week about things being really slow I had my busiest week thus far. Let’s recap:

Work Stuff

This week I had my usual schedule at the health center (baby vacs and prenatal consultations). Nothing out of the ordinary to report on that front, except that I did get to be in the room with a woman when she found out (two weeks before her due date) she was having twins. Twins in her village are thought to be good luck so she was pretty excited. I’m glad it was a good surprise this time ☺



I also had my normal meetings with the MBOSCUDA groups this week. We did a community mapping activity where I met with each group and asked them to draw a map of their community, and I could not have asked for it to work more perfectly, it was textbook! When asked to draw their community the men drew the town of Bankim with all the government buildings, a detailed marché, the bus station, their shops, and the road in and out of town. When I had the women do the same thing they drew their quartier (neighborhood) with specific households, water sources and the schools their children go to. The maps were totally different, but both had important places on them that could be used to define the community.
I had to split the activity in to two parts and the mens group is a week ahead so when I met with them this week we looked at both maps together and talked about the differences and decided that both maps were good on their own but each was missing something, and that if we put them together we would have a complete map of the Mbordoro community. The activity also helped them to visualize how people living in the same place can still see things differently thus giving some validity to the point I’ve been harping on about making sure we listen to what everyone has to say regardless of age or gender. I’m planning on doing part two with the women’s group this week (the discussion and analysis) and if it goes anything like this week I’ll be thrilled. With the men’s group it was interesting to see them working all this out in the heads, you could see everyone connecting the dots on their own. I think they’re really staring to get it, and for a group of very conservative Muslims to enthusiastically validate the work and opinions of their wives, mothers, sisters, and daughters even if it’s in a very small way is huge! This exercise has also been good for me and my perspective. Prior to coming here I had some pretty heavy preconceived notions about how gender equality would fit into the culture and expected a lot of resistance to new ideas, but I’m finding that if you move slowly and use logic and are sensitive to cultural difference people are open to change (especially the people who make most of the decisions i.e. the men) ☺ I know there are lots of ups and downs that go along with this job but this week was definitely an up!

Final work update is that I gave a small expo on Peace Corps work with a new community group this week. They’re called Ngoo Nde, and they’re a group of Bamiliké from the western province who get together once a week to talk about their problems, speak in their local dialect, and pool some of their money together in a tantine (a kind of savings system). The whole thing kind of fell together by chance when I struck up a random conversation with this man who was sitting at my table at lunch one day. We did the usual introductions and then he told me that he had seen me all over town, but didn’t know what I was doing here or what my work was. I gave him the shpeal and that seemed to suffice his inquire. The rest of lunch we just chatted about this and that, he told me about his work and his family and of course we talked about the weather (the heat has come up in every single conversation I’ve had in the past two weeks. It’s all people seem to be able to think about and understandably so it so freakin HOT!) Before he left he asked me if I wanted to come talk to a group he is a member of and I jumped on the chance, and that’s how I ended up at their meeting last Thursday.
Ok so I lied the final final work thing I did this week was attend a district meeting at the Central hospital. It was all the head nurses of all the small Health Centers in the district (there are 11) who get together at the beginning of every year to create an action plan. In reality it’s all the head nurses who get together to read the action plan from the previous year and vote to continue it into the current year without any discussion at all. One could sum up the meeting in three words long, boring, and unproductive. As for why I was there, I went to hand out a short survey to get a feel for what I could possible talk about when I go en brusse to visit their communities. So that was work for the week.

Youth Week

Youth week started this past Thursday. In training they told us that it was just one day for Cameroonians to celebrate school children, but turns out all the activities are stretched into a week long party (Cameroonians know how to get their party on). Each day a different school puts on a culture show at the Mayor’s office and all the big wigs come out to watch. I myself have somehow wound up in the VIP seating at all the events I’ve gone to thus far (Does that make me a bigwig? Oh God, I hope not!). They also have regional handball and soccer tournaments all week and each school has a couple teams that compete to be in the championship match on Friday. The winners of Bankim district will go to play in Banyo, and if they win there to Tibati, and if they win there up to N’goundre (The Capital of the Adamoua). My neighbor Rose who lives in the compound with me is the coach for the handball team at her school and apparently her team is undefeated. They have a game later today so I told her I would try to go watch. I think there are some definite opportunities for collaboration with the handball girls and their coaches and me. The 11th is the actual Youth Day and from what I gather there’s going to be a parade and singing and dancing, eating, and drinking all day at the center of town. Most of my neighbors will be there so I think I’ll go watch the happenings with them.


The Injury Report
Last week I was waiting for a meeting to start at the hospital and one of my friends came in with her baby who’s been sick for about a week with a fever. Eventually the husband decided they should take the baby to the hospital and the nurse ended up diagnosing her with Malaria. She’s on some medicine and on the mend but she had to stay over night at the health center for a couple of days, which adds up financially. I think she’s back home now but she’s still not at 100% so keep her in your prayers this week.
Next up my friend Joseph was in a moto accident. Thankfully he was wearing a helmet and is fine except for a fractured collarbone. I was visiting Bernadette’s house when we got the news so a big group of us decided to go and visit him at his house (giving someone space to recoup is in no way a part of the Cameroonian culture, it’s more of a rubber-necker mentality). But with that being said, I’m really glad we went because while I was there I got to meet Bankim’s traditional healer and I got a chance to see him do his thing. It was quite the ordeal and all I’m going to say is it included a chicken, some herbal oils, 30 min. of resetting the bone, and then wrapping with a bamboo splint. The actual act itself was interesting, but what really impressed me was that Joseph didn’t make a peep the entire time (no pain killers mind you). Were talking 30 minutes of resetting a bone and he didn’t so much as flinch. All I can say is Cameroonians must have an incredibly high tolerance for pain. Even women don’t make any noise during child birth. Aislynn was telling me that she was sitting in on a meeting at her health center in Mayo Darlé while someone was teaching the nurses how to time contractions and they were saying because most women don’t make any noise you have to read their faces for pain and flinching. But it gets better… some women (Fulbé especially) don’t even do that so you have to actually put your hands on them the whole time they're in labor and feel for the actual muscle itself contracting. God I’m glad I’m not a Cameroonian woman! Yikes!
The last injury to comment on is my very large mysterious thumb blister. It’s no mystery to me, I know exactly where it came from, but no one else does. The wives have been asking me about it all week, but I haven’t told anyone what actually happened because it’s kind of embarrassing. Of course not telling them just makes them want to know more, but I know if spill the beans for two years I will never ever hear the end of it (I still hear stories about funny things past volunteers did years ago from these women… they never forget). No, this one is not getting leaked out in Bankim, but because it is a pretty funny story I’ll fill you in.
Early last week I was visiting the compound next door and all the kids were playing football out in the common area. I had been there for maybe and hour when one of the wives told the girls they had to stop playing and do their chores. One little girl named Fadimatou (who’s probably about 9 or 10 years old) disappointedly plopped down next to me on the stairs with a big bucket of dried corn and started to pop the kernels off the cob so that they could take them to the mill to be ground into flour. I felt bad for her because kids don’t really have much time to just be kids and it’s even truer for the little girls, so I asked her to teach me to it too. At first she was a little hesitant but after a some coaxing and me acting silly and attempting to teach myself she came around and showed me the perfect technique to get the most kernels off at a time. After she felt my kernelling skills were up to snuff I asked her if she wanted to race and we made a little game of it. I really only planned on doing maybe a dozen or so before heading back home, but when the other kids saw us laughing having fun they all wanted to get in on the action too, and of course they didn’t want to race each other they wanted to race me. One hour and what felt like 100 ears of corn later I finally got back home and soaked my blistered thumb in some hot water. Even though my right thumb has become a small point of interest, and eating fou-fou with my hands is a challenge for the time being, I would do it again in a heartbeat to hear the kids laughing and having fun ☺

Good news, I eventually found a dog, and the puppy hunt has come to an end at last. I went back to the monkey man’s house because he said he would show me where I could find some others, but then when I got there he had decided to sell me his instead. It worked out great, I made a new friend, and found a dog for Aislynn all in one fell swoop ☺ After a bit of haggling over the price we took care of the particulars and I rigged up a leash, tied it around his neck, and set out to walk home. Only problem was that he didn’t want to walk…he literally wouldn’t move, so then I had to pick him up and carry him home. When I walked through the market on the way back I stopped to say hello to some of my friends and they all loved him. But I don’t think they got that I wasn’t keeping him because all this week they’ve kept asking me where my small dog is.
When I got home Stacey the sheep almost had a heart attack. She came right over to puppy and me and started stomping her hooves. I think if I hadn’t shooed her away she might have trampled him. I’ve never really witnessed emotion from a sheep but I can tell you she was pissed! After that Haua and Hadijia came over to visit. They were funny because they’re both afraid of dogs but starved for anything new and excited to be at the house so they came straight over to check him out. They would slowly inch up close to the puppy and then as soon as it would lunge at them they would jump back screaming and run around the yard like little kids. This went on for about half and hour and I’ve got to admit it was pretty funny to watch. I feel like they both had to grow up so fast so it’s fun to see them let loose every once in awhile ☺
I had originally decided to leave the dog outside for the night because he wasn’t house trained, but then we have the well and there’s no cover for it and I was afraid he might fall in. I ultimately decided to let him in the house, but first I gave him a bath because he was really dirty! Puppy didn’t really like getting a bath too much, so I had to enlist some help from the kids next door to hold him down. All I can say is that he is truly a Cameroonian dog because the whole time he barked and howled and eventually caused a crowd to form. My neighbors kept asking me why in the world I was washing the dog and when I told them it was because I was going to leave him in the house for the night it just made them look at me like I was even stranger (dogs don’t generally go inside people’s houses in Bankim and they never get bathed) . We spent the evening in and I have to say it was fun to have someone else in the house with me even if that someone did pee on the floor and keep me up whining all night.

Nothing else all that exciting happened this past week until the weekend. Saturday I got to Skype chat with the parents and a friend from college. It was great to see and hear from some familiar faces ☺ My neighbor came in while I was chatting , and he speaks pretty good English so I asked him if he wanted to say hello. He probably only said 2 sentences if that but he was so excited. By the time I got home every one of my neighbors knew that he talked to my mom and they wanted to know how everyone in the United States was… like everyone… one of the wives asked me if I could talk to R Kelly through my computer. Side note: as terrible as R Kelly is he has a surprisingly large following in Cameroon.

The only other thing I can think to report on this week is that the water pump in my part of the village broke this past weekend. I should backup a bit. Most people in Bankim get their drinking water from one of three or four legitimately constructed pumps, and for everything else (bathing, cleaning, etc…) they use water from their own wells or rivers. Now when I first got here and started asking about water sources everyone I talked to told me, “Whatever you do, don’t drink the water unless it’s from the pumps.” I played along and asked them why and they told me it’s because there are microbes that will make you sick in the water. I was really impressed because clearly the people I talked to knew about water borne disease (props to previous Bankim PCVs). But then when the pump broke they all went back to drinking dirty water without filtering it first. There’s this little stream by my house where the cattle herders stop to let their cows rest and it’s also where people drive their motorcycles (and the occasional car) to clean them. The water is really dirty it’s got manure and motor oil and who knows what else in it, and while the pump was broken some families were coming here to fetch their water. The good news is the pump was fixed the next day and the whole thing turned out to be a good teaching opportunity (I taught my neighbor Rose how to filter our well water for drinking) but the bad news is that getting information out there is a whole lot easier then changing actual behavior and it looks like I’ve got a long way to go.
Peace,
Kate