Off to Buea. Here's a lizard before I go.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Dry Season Browns
The dry season is in full effect in Cameroon. In my part of the country this means that it hasn't rained a drop since the beginning of November.
Here's a picture of part of the campus during the rainy season:
And here's a picture of the same area (from another angle) in the dry season:
So banish any images you may have had of me living in a steaming jungle from your mind. It's really really dry right now. And dusty.
Nanga Eboko is located on a heavily traveled road. A heavily traveled DIRT road. In the dry season this means dust. Lots and lots of dust. It would be dusty with the dirt road anyway, but with herds of cattle and big logging trucks passing by daily, we get tons of dust from the road. When you come back from a trip into town your clothes have all turned brown. There's spots on the road where it's like walking in a few inches of snow - but dust instead. The foliage along the road is covered with dust so thick it looks like autumn back home - all the leaves are dark brown.
And the dust doesn't stop at the road. The wind blows it in from the main road over the campus, so even in your house you start noticing dust everywhere and a thin brown film forms over your windows.
Traveling is also much dirtier in the dry season. It's dirty in the rainy season too, but the dry season has introduced me to new levels of filth. It mixes real nice with the sweat produced by a 6 hour bush taxi ride under the hot sun.
With all the dust in the air, everyone here comes down with colds. I have developed a mild cough that comes and goes and have a bit of a sniffle most of the time from the dust.
Power outages are also more common in the dry season. I had expected the opposite, figuring that without heavy rains and lightning there would be fewer outages. Wrong. Because it is so dry, and because the locals practice slash and burn agriculture and burn their garbage, there are lots of forest fires in the bush between Nanga and Yaounde. The fires take out power lines all the time. Apparently, the dry season also lowers electrical output in Cameroon because most of the power here is hydroelectric. So, when the water levels in the rivers drop during the dry season, the dams have trouble keeping up production.
The dust is also a maintenance nightmare for the school's computers. There's no air conditioning in the computer lab, so you have to keep the windows open during daytime classes or it gets too hot inside (for both the people and the computers). But keeping the windows open lets the dust in, which of course permeates the machines and can damage their innards. Two months ago we had 18 working computers in the lab. Now we're down to 11. not sure how much of that is the dust (as opposed to power problems, heat, or students messing things up) but I'm sure it's a big part. I'm going to start doing some research with Peace Corps into funding sources to buy an air conditioner for the lab so we can seal it to keep the dust out as much as to keep it cool. When there's electricity of course.
As an added irritant, several weeks ago the University was doing maintenance on the water system and somehow dumped a large quantity of debris into the water system. This produced a roving blockage that periodically cut off water for several days on parts of the campus while the crud was gradually pushed out of the system. Now the water runs again (usually) but it's full of silt or sand, or dust, or some other kind of crud. I've taken to putting a sock over the faucet to strain it out.
The dry season has also seen some interesting temperature shifts. At the beginning of January it got cold. Cold. Yes, in equatorial Africa. When I left the house for my 7 AM classes I could see my breath. After months of sleeping with just a sheet, I suddenly needed a blanket at night. I switched to washing in the early evening because I have no hot water and it was too cold in the morning. And if I was cold, my Cameroonian students and colleagues all looked like they were about to die of hypothermia. The cold lasted about two weeks, then suddenly we had one perfect day where the weather was mild and comfortable from sunrise to sunset. Followed the next day by scorching heat. Since then it's generally been pretty hot in the day, with the heat gradually rising. I'm told February and March are generally the hottest months of the year here. Still cooler and much less humid than August in New Jersey. On the other hand I had air conditioning in New Jersey. During the day I usually just stay in the shade if I don't have class, so it doesn't bother me too much. My house doesn't get a lot of sunlight in the afternoon and has a lot of shady trees around it, so it stays pretty cool.
Before the dry season, when it was raining heavily every night and the ground was often a sea of mud every day, I was looking forward to not having to walk around in the mud all the time, but now I can't wait for the rains to start again.
I was going to call this post "Dry Season Blues" but in the dry season here everything just sort of turns brown, so I guess you could say I've got the "dry season browns" instead.
Here's a picture of part of the campus during the rainy season:
And here's a picture of the same area (from another angle) in the dry season:
So banish any images you may have had of me living in a steaming jungle from your mind. It's really really dry right now. And dusty.Nanga Eboko is located on a heavily traveled road. A heavily traveled DIRT road. In the dry season this means dust. Lots and lots of dust. It would be dusty with the dirt road anyway, but with herds of cattle and big logging trucks passing by daily, we get tons of dust from the road. When you come back from a trip into town your clothes have all turned brown. There's spots on the road where it's like walking in a few inches of snow - but dust instead. The foliage along the road is covered with dust so thick it looks like autumn back home - all the leaves are dark brown.
And the dust doesn't stop at the road. The wind blows it in from the main road over the campus, so even in your house you start noticing dust everywhere and a thin brown film forms over your windows.
Traveling is also much dirtier in the dry season. It's dirty in the rainy season too, but the dry season has introduced me to new levels of filth. It mixes real nice with the sweat produced by a 6 hour bush taxi ride under the hot sun.
With all the dust in the air, everyone here comes down with colds. I have developed a mild cough that comes and goes and have a bit of a sniffle most of the time from the dust.
Power outages are also more common in the dry season. I had expected the opposite, figuring that without heavy rains and lightning there would be fewer outages. Wrong. Because it is so dry, and because the locals practice slash and burn agriculture and burn their garbage, there are lots of forest fires in the bush between Nanga and Yaounde. The fires take out power lines all the time. Apparently, the dry season also lowers electrical output in Cameroon because most of the power here is hydroelectric. So, when the water levels in the rivers drop during the dry season, the dams have trouble keeping up production.
The dust is also a maintenance nightmare for the school's computers. There's no air conditioning in the computer lab, so you have to keep the windows open during daytime classes or it gets too hot inside (for both the people and the computers). But keeping the windows open lets the dust in, which of course permeates the machines and can damage their innards. Two months ago we had 18 working computers in the lab. Now we're down to 11. not sure how much of that is the dust (as opposed to power problems, heat, or students messing things up) but I'm sure it's a big part. I'm going to start doing some research with Peace Corps into funding sources to buy an air conditioner for the lab so we can seal it to keep the dust out as much as to keep it cool. When there's electricity of course.
As an added irritant, several weeks ago the University was doing maintenance on the water system and somehow dumped a large quantity of debris into the water system. This produced a roving blockage that periodically cut off water for several days on parts of the campus while the crud was gradually pushed out of the system. Now the water runs again (usually) but it's full of silt or sand, or dust, or some other kind of crud. I've taken to putting a sock over the faucet to strain it out.
The dry season has also seen some interesting temperature shifts. At the beginning of January it got cold. Cold. Yes, in equatorial Africa. When I left the house for my 7 AM classes I could see my breath. After months of sleeping with just a sheet, I suddenly needed a blanket at night. I switched to washing in the early evening because I have no hot water and it was too cold in the morning. And if I was cold, my Cameroonian students and colleagues all looked like they were about to die of hypothermia. The cold lasted about two weeks, then suddenly we had one perfect day where the weather was mild and comfortable from sunrise to sunset. Followed the next day by scorching heat. Since then it's generally been pretty hot in the day, with the heat gradually rising. I'm told February and March are generally the hottest months of the year here. Still cooler and much less humid than August in New Jersey. On the other hand I had air conditioning in New Jersey. During the day I usually just stay in the shade if I don't have class, so it doesn't bother me too much. My house doesn't get a lot of sunlight in the afternoon and has a lot of shady trees around it, so it stays pretty cool.
Before the dry season, when it was raining heavily every night and the ground was often a sea of mud every day, I was looking forward to not having to walk around in the mud all the time, but now I can't wait for the rains to start again.
I was going to call this post "Dry Season Blues" but in the dry season here everything just sort of turns brown, so I guess you could say I've got the "dry season browns" instead.
Rooster
Oh Rooster,
Oh devil-spawned villain,
Oh bane of my existence,
It is said that Roosters crow with the coming of the dawn,
Yet thy infernal cries always commence at three hours past midnight,
When the world yet sleeps,
Cock-a-doodle-doo!!! Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!
What daemonic force drives thee to crow thus?
I do not understand,
Wherefore Rooster?
Wherefore?
Wherefore this torture?
What have I done to merit this punishment?
Wherefore dost thou torment me nightly with thy insane shrieking?
Wherefore willst thou not let me have even one sole night of repose?
Oh Rooster,
Oh foulest of fowl,
I see you and your hens everywhere,
Yet there is nary a one of you to eat,
Wherefore must my neighbors keep chickens anyway?
Oh evil bird of Satan,
Oh object of my darkest hatreds,
If cry you must each night,
Wherefore perch below my window when you do so?
Cock-a-doodle-doo!!! Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!
Is there no release from this neverending noisesome nocturnal hell?
The Caca Song
Diarrhea is not funny. OK, I'll wait a minute now until you stop laughing ... Done? Good.
Seriously though, in the US diarrhea is usually an uncomfortable nuisance, not a fatal disease. In Africa, with bad water supplies, poor sanitation, and inadequate medical facilities, diarrhea is a major killer, mostly for children.
Peace Corps Cameroon has a number of health volunteers who work on health education, disease prevention, and clean water projects. Since children are the ones most in danger, health volunteers often work with youth and new mothers in their communities teaching them how to avoid catching these illnesses and how to cope if they do get them (i.e. how to make oral rehydration solution).
Since diarrheal illnesses are usually spread by the oh-so-appetizingly named "fecal-oral route" some of our health volunteers try to teach small children how to avoid going down said fecal-oral route.
We volunteers have many weapons in our educational arsenal, but for children and young mothers, some of our health volunteers decided a good way to get the word out would be with a song.
So, without further ado, I now give you, my dear readers, The Caca Song:
“La chanson du caca” pour la prévention de la diarrhée:
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Le caca touche les mains
Le caca touche les mouches
Le caca touche la terre
Le caca touche le liquide
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Les mains touchent la nourriture
Les mouches touchent la nourriture
La terre touche la nourriture
Le liquide touche la nourriture
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Les mains touchent la bouche
La nourriture touche la bouche !
Le liquide touche la bouche
La nourriture touche la bouche
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Donc, indirectement, le caca touche la bouche . . BEURCK !
English Translation:
The Caca Song for the prevention of diarrhea
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
Caca touches your hands
Caca touches flies
Caca touches the ground
Caca touches liquid
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
Hands touch food
Flies touch food
The ground touches food
Liquid touches food
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
Hands touch your mouth
Food touches your mouth
Liquid touches your mouth
Food touches your mouth
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
So, indirectly, caca touches your mouth . . BLECCH!
So remember this song. One day your life and your bowels may depend on it.
Seriously though, in the US diarrhea is usually an uncomfortable nuisance, not a fatal disease. In Africa, with bad water supplies, poor sanitation, and inadequate medical facilities, diarrhea is a major killer, mostly for children.
Peace Corps Cameroon has a number of health volunteers who work on health education, disease prevention, and clean water projects. Since children are the ones most in danger, health volunteers often work with youth and new mothers in their communities teaching them how to avoid catching these illnesses and how to cope if they do get them (i.e. how to make oral rehydration solution).
Since diarrheal illnesses are usually spread by the oh-so-appetizingly named "fecal-oral route" some of our health volunteers try to teach small children how to avoid going down said fecal-oral route.
We volunteers have many weapons in our educational arsenal, but for children and young mothers, some of our health volunteers decided a good way to get the word out would be with a song.
So, without further ado, I now give you, my dear readers, The Caca Song:
“La chanson du caca” pour la prévention de la diarrhée:
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Le caca touche les mains
Le caca touche les mouches
Le caca touche la terre
Le caca touche le liquide
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Les mains touchent la nourriture
Les mouches touchent la nourriture
La terre touche la nourriture
Le liquide touche la nourriture
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Les mains touchent la bouche
La nourriture touche la bouche !
Le liquide touche la bouche
La nourriture touche la bouche
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Comment est-ce que le caca entre dans la bouche ?
Donc, indirectement, le caca touche la bouche . . BEURCK !
English Translation:
The Caca Song for the prevention of diarrhea
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
Caca touches your hands
Caca touches flies
Caca touches the ground
Caca touches liquid
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
Hands touch food
Flies touch food
The ground touches food
Liquid touches food
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
Hands touch your mouth
Food touches your mouth
Liquid touches your mouth
Food touches your mouth
How does caca get in your mouth?
How does caca get in your mouth?
So, indirectly, caca touches your mouth . . BLECCH!
So remember this song. One day your life and your bowels may depend on it.
Namesake
Two weeks ago I was feeling a bit down. After a weekend in Yaoundé for a province meeting I returned to post to find the campus without power and the town with power. Normally it's the other way around - when the town loses power we fire up the generator on campus so we at least have power a few hours a day - usually about 4 hours in the morning, then another 3 or 4 hours at night. This time, it turns out the meter for the university was broken, so we had no power, even though there was power in town. It took the power company over a week to come and fix it, which is actually pretty good time for Cameroon. As you can imagine, running a gasoline powered generator to power the whole campus gets expensive, especially for a poor African university, so some days they just left it off all day to economise. As a result, I got very little work done all week.
On top of that, the Dean did not give me any teaching hours, even though I had repeatedly asked him to give me time in the computer lab so I could catch up in my computer classes. Alas, I was preempted again, so another week slid by that I will have to make up next semester. Not that I would have been able to teach much without power anyway ...
So, by the end of the week I was feeling pretty frustrated. Every volunteer has moments, no matter how good their overall experience, where they feel that they can't do the job they came to do, or that they aren't accomplishing anything. Last week was one of those times for me.
So, this was my mood, when one day my friend Peter knocked on my door. He told me his wife, my friend Marie Noelle, had just brought their new baby boy home. What he said next almost knocked me over: they named the kid after me.
Bryan Stephane Landoh Kyanpi, born January 17, 2007 :
The proud parents, Peter and Marie Noelle :
After that I decided that having a kid named after you was probably worth a couple of weeks without power or Internet.
NOTE: They spelled the name with a Y because, in French, "I" is pronounced "ee"", so if they had spelled it the same way, his name would have been "Br-ee-an". That's OK - I don't mind.
On top of that, the Dean did not give me any teaching hours, even though I had repeatedly asked him to give me time in the computer lab so I could catch up in my computer classes. Alas, I was preempted again, so another week slid by that I will have to make up next semester. Not that I would have been able to teach much without power anyway ...
So, by the end of the week I was feeling pretty frustrated. Every volunteer has moments, no matter how good their overall experience, where they feel that they can't do the job they came to do, or that they aren't accomplishing anything. Last week was one of those times for me.
So, this was my mood, when one day my friend Peter knocked on my door. He told me his wife, my friend Marie Noelle, had just brought their new baby boy home. What he said next almost knocked me over: they named the kid after me.
Bryan Stephane Landoh Kyanpi, born January 17, 2007 :
The proud parents, Peter and Marie Noelle :
After that I decided that having a kid named after you was probably worth a couple of weeks without power or Internet.
NOTE: They spelled the name with a Y because, in French, "I" is pronounced "ee"", so if they had spelled it the same way, his name would have been "Br-ee-an". That's OK - I don't mind.
Back Online
No power for the last three weeks. Been off line. Right now I'm in Yaounde on my way to visit Buea for vacation. Will post pictures when I get back, but for now, stand by for a few of the posts I wanted to put up in the last three weeks.
Saturday, February 3, 2007
La Maison
Some of you have been asking me for pictures of my house for a while. Never let it be said that I am one to ignore the will of the people. So, here's the part where I prove that I do not live in a mud hut as some of you predicted before I left.
Originally my house was a transit house used to host visiting professors at the university. It had three bedrooms and bathrooms off a large common room. When my predecessor arrived they converted it into his house and I inherited it from him. One of the bedrooms has a separate door to the outside and is still used as a guest room by the university, but I kept the other two rooms and the common room.
On entering my humble abode, you are in the old common room which I use as a kitchen and dining room and to entertain guests.
The volunteer who used to live here painted a large Cameroonian flag on the wall. I decided I liked it and left it up. It adds color to the place. Thought about painting a large American flag on the wall opposite the Cameroonian flag but I think I'm just too lazy.
An alcove in the back of the room has been converted into a kitchenette with a small gas stove and a fridge. There's no water in this room unfortunately, so I get water from the bathroom when I need it. Do my dishes in the bathroom as well.
The view from my front door:
It has a decent sized bedroom where I have two desks, chairs, shelves, and my mosquito net equipped bed. There is a bathroom just to the right of the window.
The view out my bedroom window (taken in the rainy season - looks a lot less lush right now since we're in the dry season):
The third room is another converted bedroom that the previous volunteer used as a salon. I want to have a sofa made so I can use the room, but since we are not receiving regular pay checks (the last Congress never passed a budget so we just get money in dribs and drabs for now) I can't really afford it at the moment. So, for now I don't really use it. I did inherit a nice coffee table with it though. The bathroom off the salon is the one I use for dishes, laundry, etc. Note the buckets just inside the door. Buckets are REALLY useful here. If Douglas Adams had written The Hitchhiker's Guide to Cameroon he'd have written that you need to have a bucket with you at all times, not a towel.
The house has electricity and running water, which both work some of the time. I just need a sofa, a few throw rugs, a decent light to read by, and maybe a fan for when it gets hot. It's probably about the same square footage as my old apartment before I came here. It's also only a two to five minute walk from any of the buildings on campus where I teach, so the commute is great. Overall it's a decent place to live.
Not to shabby for life in the Peace Corps huh?
Originally my house was a transit house used to host visiting professors at the university. It had three bedrooms and bathrooms off a large common room. When my predecessor arrived they converted it into his house and I inherited it from him. One of the bedrooms has a separate door to the outside and is still used as a guest room by the university, but I kept the other two rooms and the common room.
On entering my humble abode, you are in the old common room which I use as a kitchen and dining room and to entertain guests.
The volunteer who used to live here painted a large Cameroonian flag on the wall. I decided I liked it and left it up. It adds color to the place. Thought about painting a large American flag on the wall opposite the Cameroonian flag but I think I'm just too lazy.
An alcove in the back of the room has been converted into a kitchenette with a small gas stove and a fridge. There's no water in this room unfortunately, so I get water from the bathroom when I need it. Do my dishes in the bathroom as well.
The view from my front door:
It has a decent sized bedroom where I have two desks, chairs, shelves, and my mosquito net equipped bed. There is a bathroom just to the right of the window.
The view out my bedroom window (taken in the rainy season - looks a lot less lush right now since we're in the dry season):
The third room is another converted bedroom that the previous volunteer used as a salon. I want to have a sofa made so I can use the room, but since we are not receiving regular pay checks (the last Congress never passed a budget so we just get money in dribs and drabs for now) I can't really afford it at the moment. So, for now I don't really use it. I did inherit a nice coffee table with it though. The bathroom off the salon is the one I use for dishes, laundry, etc. Note the buckets just inside the door. Buckets are REALLY useful here. If Douglas Adams had written The Hitchhiker's Guide to Cameroon he'd have written that you need to have a bucket with you at all times, not a towel.
The house has electricity and running water, which both work some of the time. I just need a sofa, a few throw rugs, a decent light to read by, and maybe a fan for when it gets hot. It's probably about the same square footage as my old apartment before I came here. It's also only a two to five minute walk from any of the buildings on campus where I teach, so the commute is great. Overall it's a decent place to live.Not to shabby for life in the Peace Corps huh?
Go For English
During stage (training) the trainees who were teaching English got to use the English text books used in the Cameroonian school system. They discovered the following passage in Go For English (3eme edition). You just can't make this stuff up.
The youth was trembling with intense excitement. His muscles stood in twisted knots, oiled and elastic. In contrast to him, his challenger was cool as ice. He stood with feet astride, hands interlaced above his head, motionless. He did not even budge one inch when his opponent began to circle around him with a long whip, the leather-hide or koboko, looking for a tender spot on which to cut him. There was plenty of exposed skin above the waist, but from the waist down the challenger was heavily girded in leather cloth.Here are some of the reading comprehension questions that followed the passage:
Suddenly the man with the whip made a feint as if he intended to strike. The onlookers drew in their breaths. But he merely withdrew and began his dance again.
The music hushed again as the whip began menacing the victim. The man who had his hands above his head had not moved except when he turned aside, in the face of the threat, to spit.
The youth's muscles were oiled:Awesome. I wish my French classes had used material this entertaining.
a) to keep his magic.
b) to prevent the whip from wounding him.
c) to make him look beautiful.
Jalla wore a leather skirt:
a) because he had many cows.
b) because he was poor.
c) becaue it would protect him better than clothes.
Dumaru looked for a "tender spot" on Jalla because:
a) that was the rule.
b) he wanted to inflict maximum pain and suffering.
c) he was a bad man.
Quick Updates
Just a few quick updates to let people know what's going on:
- In Yaounde this weekend for a province meeting. Nice to see other Americans after six weeks straight at post.
- Cameroonians do not know how to cut white peoples' hair. I now look like a marine.
- My computer class has been on hiatus for two months but will resume soon and continue into the second semester. Instead I have been teaching Commercial English (Business English) to students in the business class here. Class has been going well (I think). Almost finished.
- None of the photocopy machines at school work and most of the printers are out of ink (or low enough that they don't want you to print anything) so I'm having a hard time getting anything printed - including exams for my students. There are places in town that do this, but with the power out so much this has not been an option when I needed it. I actually brought paper with me to Yaounde so I could print my exams in the Peace Corps office. Very irritating.
- I just got a few packages from home. Yaay!!! Mom sent taco shells and seasonings so last night a bunch of us had tacos for dinner here in Yaounde. Very exciting.
- I recently received an email from a former volunteer here (10 years ago) who married a Cameroonian from my village. They are coming to visit family soon and we are going to try to get together. I'll be interested to hear how much things have changed (or not changed) since they were serving here. Pretty cool.
- In Yaounde this weekend for a province meeting. Nice to see other Americans after six weeks straight at post.
- Cameroonians do not know how to cut white peoples' hair. I now look like a marine.
- My computer class has been on hiatus for two months but will resume soon and continue into the second semester. Instead I have been teaching Commercial English (Business English) to students in the business class here. Class has been going well (I think). Almost finished.
- None of the photocopy machines at school work and most of the printers are out of ink (or low enough that they don't want you to print anything) so I'm having a hard time getting anything printed - including exams for my students. There are places in town that do this, but with the power out so much this has not been an option when I needed it. I actually brought paper with me to Yaounde so I could print my exams in the Peace Corps office. Very irritating.
- I just got a few packages from home. Yaay!!! Mom sent taco shells and seasonings so last night a bunch of us had tacos for dinner here in Yaounde. Very exciting.
- I recently received an email from a former volunteer here (10 years ago) who married a Cameroonian from my village. They are coming to visit family soon and we are going to try to get together. I'll be interested to hear how much things have changed (or not changed) since they were serving here. Pretty cool.
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