HIV/AIDS seminar in Tourningal

Our health stage group, over one year later, posing during mid-service.

"Chucky" in my backyard in the midst of helping me with my soy harvest.

My community praying before the Ramaddan celebration. The Women are in the back.

My baby and I. I'm sporting my bright, lime-green Ramaddan ensemble.

Election Galore

Happy Belated Election!!!!It has been a while since I’ve had a substantial blog post, mainly due to the lack of internet in Ngaoundere (my closest town). When internet is around, it is so slow that oftentimes I feel my life wasting away while starring at the blank computer screen in the cyber cafes. Needless to say, this can be a frustrating experience—sometimes technology can just be a headache.
Now I’m in Yaounde for a HIV/Gender Youth Development meeting. Two nights ago was a very exciting time here, for about 30 fellow peace corps volunteers and myself stayed up all night with our eyes glued to CNN international for the projections. It was an odd sensation to be up at 6:30 am with the sun shining while watching Obama’s Victory speech in the pitch dark of Chicago. Cameroonians have showed nothing but utterly zeal and passion for this election. Although I have not experienced many presidential elections in my lifetime, nor any others outside of the US, I can vouch to say that this year’s election will be hard to beat in terms of its African appeal. Even in my tiny village, most all news-following citizens were very in tuned to the election and stayed up as well to watch the outcome—as evidence by the dozens of text victory messages and updates I received throughout the evening. In sum, the US election and the Cameroonian interest in it, reiterated how small the world is and how events can touch even small villages thousands of miles away from the US.
Outside of the election, life in village has been great. I have been kept rather busy between my teaching, helping with vaccinations at the health center, and organizing/meeting with women’s groups. In addition to community work, is the everyday monotonous activities of cleaning the house, cooking (sometimes) and dealing with the neighborhood kids. I find myself rarely having time to read or rest. Privacy and alone time are not very valued in my village. After I eat my dinner at my “families” house they usually try to convince me to stay up and talk with them rather than me go home and relax. If I’m relaxing chez moi during the day, I am relaxing to the sounds of people knocking on my door to try to visit me. Resting thus entails having to bar my front door, if not, it is impossible.
Lately I have felt like a women’s day consultant. It is quite exciting to work with people that act like you are extremely valued. Usually when I go visit women’s groups the amount of applause and fanfare I get is sublime. The groups make me feel like I am a celebrity—a good confidence booster. Sometimes I question if the work I’m doing is helpful and sustainable, but I guess whatever the outcomes are at least the groups know there is some foreign influence that cares about them and wants to try to help them. Some of the work I do includes: reorganizing the structure of already existing groups, starting action plans, doing budgets, time-lines, health presentations, helping the groups form bank accounts, forming non-existent groups in new communities and neighborhoods, and helping them become legalized.
Life outside of work is going well. My village is as friendly as ever, I’m running every morning with the sunrise, the weather is now sunny and dry and I finally bought a short-wave radio so I can keep in-touch with international news. Hope this blog finds everyone happy and in bonne forme. Much peace and happiness, Ali

Sannu!!!!

The majority of the time here in Tourningal I feel more like a man than a woman; due to the cultural constraints and roles that women perform here. That is, they more often than not; do not eat with men, cover themselves in front of men or when they leave the house (that is IF they leave the house) and usually marry by age 17 and have 5 kids by age 25. Then there’s me. I run in my short shorts and tank tops. (Granted I run at 5: 30 am so as to not flaunt in front of the men). I teach English and a girl’s home-economics and health class.(quite a funny coincidence since I am probably one of the least domestic people I know). I come and I go as I please, in a liberal fashion entering concession after concession to visit my friends who do not have as much liberty as I. I eat and discuss political and religious issues with the “Grands” of the village, including the chiefs, imam etc. I am invited to eat with the “Grands” of the village while my friends and mothers of the village are the ones forced to cook for the Grands. They are not allowed to enter where we are eating; left only to hear the noises of the men and to see the remnants of their half eaten meals that they, the women, strived to make.

Then other times I feel like a camp counselor or walking human museum. That is I always feel on display. The amount of kids and questions I attract everyday could not be counted. Wherever I go or whatever I’m wearing, holding, cooking, reading etc. etc. are always the targets of questions galore. For instance, a few days ago I used a few band-aids on my feet to cover some scratchy mosquito bites. No joke, during the day at least 100+ people asked me about my condition. Whenever I prepare anything to eat, whenever anyone walks into my house they want to know exactly what I’m making and always expect to be fed. If I go to Ngaoundere for the day, people want to know why I’m going and how long going for. Perhaps I just live in a really inquisitive village. I think it’s more the culture here and the life of a small, intimate village.

Then there are the moments I feel like a NGO representative or consultant; chatting with women’s groups about their action plans, organizing community meetings to help mobilize groups for parties and information sessions, or meeting at banks and ministries in attempt to legalize groups. Some of the best, most triumphal feelings I have had fit under this category. For instance, when I see a group I have worked with has worked together to plant a few hectares of corn. When I witness the bean harvest of another group I helped actually grow. Or when I help a group that is 1.5 hours away from my village in the brush, legalize there group, make an action plan, and try to get funding to help their group next season with their corn, potatoes, cassava, or beans. These are the moments when I feel very worthwhile and pray that hopefully the work I am doing now, that is community mobilization, will somehow be sustainable in the long-run.

Besides explaining my roles in the society, on a completely different note, currently it seems like everyone is sick here in Tourningal. Not to exaggerate I would say about 50% of the population says they have some sort of malaria, the flu, cold, cough etc. A nurse I work with claims one reason for this spike in health ailments is due to the dearth of people coming to the health center during Ramadan and their bodies having to adapt to the changing eating/drinking habits. In addition to that, mosquitoes have invaded the town. Thank goodness PC provides us with mosquito nets. I cannot imagine sleeping without one. I fall asleep to the sounds of buzzing mosquitoes.

Some of my best friends in village fall under those that have been stricken by maladies. Three out of the Four women I consider to be my closest mom’s in village are bed-ridden. One has HIV. Another is in a Ngaoundere hospital, five months pregnant. The other just lost her five month old fetus.

Well, it’s late here, almost 10:00 pm and the constant drone of crickets is providing quite a nice sound tranquilizer. I should go to sleep. Much, much peace and happiness to everyone. Allah Hokku en Jam,

Ali or Amina