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.