Peace Corps Partnership for Nanga-Eboko

In a previous post about Kenya, I wrote that I've seen enough here to worry about Cameroon one day experiencing the same kind of violence. As it happens, I have a good friend here named Jerome who often worries about the same thing. Jerome has started his own NGO (which he calls the Brotherhood Coast) which tries to use a variety of community and development projects to unite Cameroonians around common problems they all face.

Jerome is in the process of putting together a public health campaign in my village of Nanga-Eboko. Nanga is a poor village with big health problems: a high HIV infection rate; lack of access to clean water and, as a result, lots of waterborne disease; and lots of problems with malaria due to its location in mosquito central.

Jerome's plan is to conduct a series of events in the town's high schools, hospital, and prison that will try to teach students, patients, and prisoners how to protect themselves from these diseases.

In addition, the town has a recent history of ethnic conflict. In the mid-90s there was a lot of violence against Bamileké (one of the many ethnic groups in Cameroon) who had migrated to the town from the west province. In order to try to avoid a repeat, the training Jerome will be giving will also include conflict resolution and prevention strategies in the hopes that young people will be able to avoid violence in the future.

At the end of a week of these activities, a group of popular Cameroonian musicians that Jerome has worked with in the past will come to the town and hold a concert. They are the "hook" to get young people interested.

The point of all these activities is to try to show Cameroonian youth that despite their tribal differences, they share the same problems of health and poverty, and that they have a shared culture embodied in the music they will hear at the concert.

When he started planning all of this, Jerome asked if I or the Peace Corps could do anything to help. It's often hard to find people in Cameroon who are civic-minded and energetic enough to try something like this, so I felt I had to do something to help. If there was anything I could do to try to keep Cameroon OUT of the news I wanted to try to make a contribution.

Peace Corps has a program called Peace Corps Partnership, where volunteers in the field can post projects on Peace Corps' website. Interested donors can donate money to these projects online. When the funding goal for the project is reached, the money is sent to the volunteer for use on the project. For my project, I'm requesting $2,720 USD to help pay for the costs of this health and conflict resolution campaign. The money will go to pay for water filters and first aid kits in the high schools, mosquito nets for the hospital, various other supplies, and transportation. I will be working directly with Jerome on purchasing these materials, so I will be supervising the money and making sure it all goes where it needs to.

If any one reading this would like to help us out, you can find a short description of the project and make a donation here. I hope some of you will be able to help us. Thank you!

PS: We hope to pull this off in late March if possible, so if anyone plans to donate, sooner is better than later - ideally in the next two or three weeks. Merci Beaucoup!

Quick Hits

A few quick updates:

• Last night Cameroon defeated Ghana 1-0 in the Africa Cup of Nations. I and a few other volunteers watched it in a bar in Yaoundé. The post-victory celebrations were a sight to see. Men ran around tearing off the shirts, people waving Cameroonian flags, drinking and dancing, etc. Good times. They beat Cameroon in their first game, so I'm not sure if that hurts the Lions (intimidation factor) or helps them (desire for revenge). We'll see. Allez Les Lions!
• Last weekend Cameroon's neighbor, Chad, blew up. Thousands of rebels advanced on the capital city of N'djamena in a bid to overthrow the President, Idriss Deby. The capital has been torn apart in heavy fighting. The US embassy was closed down and all personnel evacuated since it was inconveniently located between the Presidential palace and rebel positions. At last report the government had fought off the rebels and was trying to impose a nationwide curfew. Good luck enforcing that one guys. All in all, an ugly situation, with oil and Sudan in the mix of instability.
• N'djamena is just across the border from the extreme north of Cameroon. The border is a river between N'djamena and the northern Cameroonian town of Kousseri. Kousseri is now flooded with refugees fleeing the fighting. I had an email yesterday asking if I was Ok - yes folks, I'm fine. The fighting is hundreds of miles away and has not spilled over into Cameroon. While there are some volunteers near the border with Chad, none are near N'djamena and no others have reported any problems, thankfully.
• The Kenyans are talking again. Let's hope they manage to calm things down.

Cosendai Adventist University

I've been meaning to do a post about the University where I teach for a while. If y'all ain't the readin' kind, y'all can just look at all the purdy pictures.

The Main Entrance

Cosendai Adventist University (Université Adventiste Cosendai in French) is a Seventh Day Adventist (link to wikipedia on 7th day adv) school. It started out as a seminary founded here in the 1920s. Many years later, a primary school was established here, then eventually a college (private high school) which shares the campus. Finally, they upgraded again and converted the seminary into a full-fledged University in 1996.

The University is one of only two private universities in Cameroon who's degrees are recognized by the government. (The other is Catholic university in Yaoundé.) Four majors are offered: Theology, Business and Computer Science (almost two separate programs with the same Dean), Education, and Nursing. Nursing degrees take two years to finish and the others take three.

Because the school is too small to support a large permanent faculty, the majority of courses are taught by visiting professors. Since they can usually only stay for a week or two at a time and since we have to take them when we can get them, the school schedule changes every week. On Fridays I find out what classes I'm teaching and when for the following week. Or maybe I find out I'm not teaching at all, which was a big problem last year. As you can imagine, this makes lesson planning and scheduling exams and homework a nightmare.

It also makes life hard on the students, since they frequently have to cram a 60 hour class into one or two weeks. Some weeks they have classes from 7 AM to 10 PM straight, every day, with only an hour break each for lunch and dinner. Giving homework is a problem both because they often have no time to do it with a course load like that and because the power is often out at night.

The school has about 370 students, mostly from Cameroon. The majority are from the country's two biggest cities, Yaoundé and Douala, but there are students from each of Cameroon's ten provinces. There is a large contingent of students from the Extreme North province, which is rare since that region of Cameroon is poorer than the south and tends to send fewer students to college. Most are here on church scholarships. Since it's hard to find pastors to serve in northern Cameroon, they finance the degrees of promising students who will later return north and serve the church there. As a result, after French and English the third most common language spoken on campus is Fulfuldé - the dominant language of the northern provinces.

The school also has an international contingent. We have students from all over west Africa. I have students from Chad, Gabon, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Niger, Burkina Faso (my Dean's native country), Togo, the Central African Republic, and Cape Verde. The Dean of our Theology department and his wife are from Kenya (although they've lived in the US for over a decade before coming here and have applied for US citizenship). Most of the faculty and staff have traveled or studied in other countries in the region. We also get a fair number of foreign visitors associated with the church (missionaries, church administration, and professors from UAC's sister universities in Ghana and Nigeria).

As a result of this international character I have been learning a lot about life in other parts of Africa. Most Americans tend to lump all of these nations together as "Africa" - one big undifferentiated mass of people. (Who are either starving or dying of Ebola or getting hacked to death with machetes.) While there are cultural characteristics that are common to these countries, lumping together Cameroon and say, Niger is like assuming that there is no difference between France and Germany because they are both European. So being posted here has been a good opportunity to learn more about the complexities of Africa.

The facilities here are not very good. There aren't enough classrooms and those we do have are run down and often crowded, as in most Cameroonian schools.

Power and water go out often. We have a generator that can power the campus during blackouts, but it broke down back in March and still hasn't been repaired, despite repeated efforts.

The library is small and many of the books are outdated American textbooks donated years ago. The Peace Corps volunteer I replaced did a lot of work in the library. Now there's some organization and he got them on the Dewey decimal system. Before books were just laying around in piles.

We have a lab with 18 computers. That's both for classes and for the extracurricular use of 370 students who are all itching to get in there to write papers and use the internet. Fortunately they are almost done building a second small lab, which will help considerably.

Since land lines are impractical, we have a satellite internet connection.

The University is a religious school, but it is open to students from other denominations. About half the student body are Adventists. The rest are a mix of Catholics and members of other protestant denominations, with a scattering of atheists and now and then a few Muslims as well. Students are not expected to become Adventists, but they do have to live by the rules of the church.

This means that all classes start with prayers and often singing, and that students are obliged to go to chapel twice a week and mass on Fridays and Saturdays. Too many absences can result in disciplinary action.

All students do manual labor on Thursday and Sunday mornings. They are organized into groups and spend two hours cleaning floors, cutting grass with machetes, picking up trash, digging ditches, whatever. Basically they're free labor for the school to use in maintaining the campus.

The school has strict moral codes. Drinking alcohol, smoking, or using drugs are grounds for dismissal, on or off campus. As a result of all these rules, there's not much night life around the campus aside from choir practice. Makes it easier to sleep I suppose. Fortunately I'm not bound by these rules. :)

Of course, lots of students drink and smoke, but they do it in town in the backs of bars or in their homes, hidden from the eyes of the administration. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to report them, but on the odd occasion when I go out for a beer and run into them, I don't say anything. Their lives are hard enough without me acting as the morals police. Besides, since I'm usually having a beer when I see them it's not like I can say "don't drink that" with a straight face.

The school also regularly hassles female students about dressing modestly so as to avoid tempting the men.

With a church that serves both the University and the local community, on campus baptisms, weddings and other events are a regular part of life here.

One nice thing about living here is the music. There are a number of choral groups on campus that regularly sing in church, have concerts, and rehearse in the evenings. I can often sit in my house and hear singing all over campus. Since these groups are all pretty good, it's nice.

Food options are, sadly, a bit limited. There is a cafeteria which make serviceable meals but gets a bit boring after a while since they rotate through a pretty small repertoire. It is however reasonably priced and conveniently located, even if lunch is never ready on time.

At the edge of campus is a long hut where a group of women (who I refer to as "the fish mommies") come to sell food to the students. My typical breakfast is a bean sandwich purchased from one of the ladies who works there. When I don't feel like cooking at night I can get beans and rice or grilled fish from them as well.

Students live both on campus and off campus. Some students live in small, two person "cells" that are scattered around campus. Tiny concrete huts divided into two rooms, each with just enough space for a bunk bed and a tiny desk and chair. Others live in larger dorms. From what some students have told me, it sounds like life in the larger dorms is close to prison life. They live four, five, or six to a room and have a strict curfew after which the doors are locked.

There are also a limited number of apartments and houses for students with families and for professors. Some of these are decent (depending on how big the family is) but there aren't enough to go around.

Because there is not enough housing on campus (and because they want some freedom) many students live off campus. There is a small quartier (neighborhood) that surrounds the campus. Some students are able to rent rooms there, which is at least convenient for classes.

The rest have to find housing wherever they can in town. Often this means being several kilometers from campus. So, either they have a long walk to school, or, they have to pay for a motorcycle taxi ride - which starts to bite given that most of the students aren't exactly rolling in cash.

In general I like most of my students and the rest of the faculty and staff and have made a lot of good friends here. In spite of the school's organizational headaches and the area's problems with power and water, this is a great assignment for a Peace Corps volunteer. I've had many frustrating moments here, but the longer I've been here the more I've come to appreciate all I've learned here.

Out of Africa

We just got word yesterday that Peace Corps is pulling out of Kenya. Some volunteers had already been sent home due to the ongoing violence, but now they're suspending the program entirely and are in the process of evacuating all the volunteers this week. Oy.

Over at Peace Corps Journals, I checked out some of the Kenya blogs and read some posts from volunteers. Here are some thoughts on coming home this way from Diana, Nicholas, and Rachel.

Victory!

So, Cameroon beat Sudan last week and last night went on to beat Tunisia 3-2 in overtime in the Africa Cup of Nations. Watched the game in a bar here in Yaoundé. It wan pendemonium after every goal. When Cameroon won at the end the locals all started shaking their beer bottles and spraying the ceiling, walls, and each other with beer. Wish I'd had a video camera. Truly a sight to behold. Then I fled before they started lighting things on fire.

Throughout the game there was one drunk patron who kept shouting that the Tunisians were terrorists. Apparently the Cameroon-Tunisia match was a major battle in the War on Terrorism® and he kept screaming things like "We must beat the terrorists!" and "Terrorism must be punished!"

The Lions are playing Ghana on Thursday. Woot woot woot!

The Road to Hell is Unpaved

Another volunteer pointed me to this article from the Economist about the hellish state of Cameroonian roads and their impact on the country's economy. One of the roads he writes about happens to be the road to my village, and I can personally vouch for everything he writes: the mud, the rain barriers, the gendarmes, etc.

An excerpt:

The plan was to carry 1,600 crates of Guinness and other drinks from the factory in Douala where they were brewed to Bertoua, a small town in Cameroon's south-eastern rainforest. As the crow flies, this is less than 500km (313 miles)—about as far as from New York to Pittsburgh, or London to Edinburgh. According to a rather optimistic schedule, it should have taken 20 hours, including an overnight rest. It took four days. When the truck arrived, it was carrying only two-thirds of its original load.

The scenery was staggering: thickly forested hills, stretching into the distance like an undulating green ocean, with red and yellow blossoms floating on the waves. Beside the road were piles of cocoa beans, laid out to dry in the sun, and hawkers selling engine oil, tangerines, and succulent four-metre pythons for the pot. We were able to soak up these sights at our leisure: we were stopped at road-blocks 47 times.

These usually consisted of a pile of tyres or a couple of oil drums in the middle of the road, plus a plank with upturned nails sticking out, which could be pulled aside when the policemen on duty were satisfied that the truck had broken no laws and should be allowed to pass.

Sometimes, they merely gawped into the cab or glanced at the driver's papers for a few seconds before waving him on. But the more aggressive ones detained us somewhat longer. Some asked for beer. Some complained that they were hungry, often patting their huge stomachs to emphasise the point. One asked for pills, lamenting that he had indigestion. But most wanted hard cash, and figured that the best way to get it was to harass motorists until bribed to lay off.

.......

Even without the unwelcome attentions of the robber-cops, the journey would have been a slog. Most Cameroonian roads are unpaved: long stretches of rutty red laterite soil with sheer ditches on either side. Dirt roads are fine so long as it does not rain, but Cameroon is largely rainforest, where it rains often and hard.

Our road was rendered impassable by rain three times, causing delays of up to four hours. The Cameroonian government has tried to grapple with the problem of rain eroding roads by erecting a series of barriers, with small gaps in the middle, that allow light vehicles to pass but stop heavy trucks from passing while it is pouring. This is fair. Big trucks tend to mangle wet roads.

The barriers, which are locked to prevent truckers from lifting them when no one is looking, are supposed to be unlocked when the road has had a chance to dry. Unfortunately, the officials whose job it is to unlock them are not wholly reliable. Early on the second evening, not long after our stand-off with the police in Mbandjok, we met a rain barrier in the middle of the forest. It was dark, and the man with the key was not there. Asking around nearby villages yielded no clue as to his whereabouts. We curled up in the hot, mosquito-filled cab and waited for him to return, which he did shortly before midnight.

The hold-up was irritating, but in the end made no difference. Early the next morning, a driver coming in the opposite direction told us that the bridge ahead had collapsed, so we had to turn back.

Bigger Than The Superbowl

Cameroon is a football (soccer) country. Forget the Superbowl, the World Series, or March Madness. You haven't seen sports fanaticism until you've been to Cameroon. Not only do people follow the sport religiously on TV, there are informal teams and matches in every quarter and village in the country. The poverty of the country makes it difficult to build stadiums, but if you were to drive around the country, you'd see makeshift football fields everywhere (easy to spot because of the improvised goals - often just sticks or tree branches jammed into the ground). I hear the rest of Africa is not too different.

Right now we are in the middle of the Africa Cup of Nations, which surpasses even the World Cup in importance here. The 2006 World Cup was being held during my training in 2006, so I got a taste of soccer culture then.

On days when the Indomitable Lions (the Cameroonian national team) play, everything shuts down during the game. At the University, evening classes were cancelled during the last match. Taxi drivers stop driving, stores and restaurants close, and everyone heads for the nearest TV. Bars with TVs are usually packed. When a goal is scored you can hear half the town screaming. When the Lions are playing, the day of the game is always an unofficial national holiday.

As I mentioned in my last post, Cameroon is a country with plenty of divisions, but the Lions are one thing that unites them all. When the national team is playing, everyone is Cameroonian, no matter what their tribe, religion, language, or politics. It's actually a little touching.

Last Tuesday night Cameroon lost its first match to Egypt, 4-2. I watched the game at a friend's house, so I probably missed the full effect. Needless to say, the mood the next day was almost funereal. On the bright side, one of my English students was watching it with us, so it gave me the chance to explain what an "kicking ass" was.

On Saturday night, Cameroon played Zambia. They somehow got their groove back and won 5-1.

This time I watched it with a friend in a local bar, and the patrons and employees all went wild with joy with every goal. I was able to explain the expression "kicking ass" again, but in a more positive light this time.

Cameroon is playing Sudan tomorrow night. It's probably a good sign for Cameroon that Sudan was beaten by Zambia. If Cameroon wins, they will move on to the second round. I can't imagine the celebration that would follow if they were to somehow win the cup (probably unlikely after the drubbing they got from Egypt). Ah well, onward! To victory!

As a side benefit, the government and SONEL (the power company) are working overtime to make sure the televisions stay on during the cup. So, power has been remarkably stable the last couple of weeks. Makes you wonder why they can't manage to keep the power on the rest of the time, but, c'est l'afrique.

Kenya, Cameroon, and the Ilusion of Stability

For those of you who follow the news, Kenya exploded into violence in recent weeks after a disputed election. For those who would like some background, you can read a brief rundown on the country and it's history at wikipedia, a news round up at allAfrica.com, a timeline from Reuters, and a commentary by sociologist-historian Immanuel Wallerstein.

Today the news got even grimmer. The New York Times is reporting increasing signs that the violence in Kenya, which has left hundreds dead and tens of thousands displaced, was planned and premeditated by various political-ethnic factions.

A constant thread I have noticed in all the news coverage is surprise. No one saw it coming. Kenya was so "stable" they all say. The first paragraph in the Times article I linked to above says Kenya was "a country that was celebrated as one of Africa’s most stable."

Personally, I'm not that surprised. Violence like this doesn't come from nowhere. There are plenty of historical precedents in modern Africa. Côte d'Ivoire is probably the best example: for years it was touted as stable and prosperous - until it blew up in civil war a few years ago.

What's happening in Kenya is depressingly familiar in Africa: a toxic mix of poverty, corruption, undemocratic rule, and ethnic rivalry boiling over into violence.

I think it all goes back to the colonial era. Most countries in Africa never would have existed had they not been created by the European colonial empires. When the British, French, Germans, and Portuguese drew their borders, they were drawn for the convenience of the colonizers, not the inhabitants. As a result, diverse and often hostile ethnic and sectarian groups were lumped together under colonial rule, and then found themselves still lumped together in an uncomfortable marriage of inconvenience at independence.

Before independence, the colonial regimes often used a "divide and conquer" strategy of favoring one tribe over another in order to win their support and rule their otherwise unruly colonies. Lacking a strong national identity, this divisive kind of politics has continued and most Africans still identify more closely with their own ethnic group than with the artificial nations within whose borders they live. As a result, most politicians and generals tend to rule by leaning heavily on supporters of their own tribes, sects, or regions. These supporters are rewarded with a bigger share of economic opportunities and government spending than the others. Naturally, this leads to a lot of pent up grievances over time, especially in poor countries where the pie being divided up is pretty small to begin with.

The problem is compounded by the fact that Africa has suffered under a long line of one-party governments, military rule, and various other forms of personal or party dictatorship. Although Kenya has avoided military rule, it has been under one-party rule for its entire history, and its leaders in that party have continued the old game of favoring their own ethnic groups at the expense of others, stealing from the public treasury for their own personal enrichment, and stifling any effort to change the situation.

What foreign observers often call "stability" in countries like Kenya is really just a situation where the current ruling powers have managed to freeze the political situation in place so that no one can remove them. The problem with this is that the rulers of a one-party system have no incentive to actually address mounting economic or social problems or to try to defuse the ethnic tensions bubbling under the surface. These tensions are there even if they are hidden, and the longer they go unresolved the more the frustration of the people builds and builds until finally, some event triggers an explosion. I am friends with a married couple at my school who are originally from Kenya, and they have told me many stories about the mounting frustrations in Kenya at the absence of any real change.

I can't imagine what volunteers in Kenya are going through right now. Volunteers live and work in communities and form close relationships with their neighbors and coworkers. Now they are watching these same communities many of them have no doubt grown to love tear themselves apart. It must be heartbreaking. According to the Peace Corps, all volunteers in Kenya are safe and accounted for. Some are still at their posts working, while others have been temporarily consolidated at safe locations in hopes things calm down. (In case any PCVs in Kenya happen to read this, you are all in our thoughts here in Cameroon. Stay safe.)

The scary thing is, I think Cameroon is a lot like Kenya. An artificial nation made up of many different tribes that often have very little in common and ruled over by an insatiably corrupt one-party government. And foreigners like to praise the country for its "stability."

As an outsider, it's hard for me to tell where things are going, but I hear things.

I hear volunteers in the north of the country tell me their friends are saying if the next President of Cameroon is not a northerner they will go to war. I hear volunteers in the Anglophone provinces tell me friends openly wish they could form their own country. I hear Francophone Cameroonians saying that if the Anglopohones ever revolt they'll be crushed. I hear stories about how the Bamileké (one ethnic group in Cameroon) were chased out of my village by machete-wielding mobs in the 90s. I hear seething anger at wealthy politicians making fortunes by stealing from the people. I hear a good friend telling me "I have nightmares. We're going to be like Côte d'Ivoire or Rwanda."

Yet through it all, I constantly hear Cameroonians telling me "We're peaceful! we have no wars here! No wars!" but often with a hint of quiet desperation in their eyes - hoping that if they wish it and proclaim it loudly enough they can ward it off.

I hope I'm wrong. I hope Cameroon never knows the kind of violence that has torn apart Kenya or Rwanda or Côte d'Ivoire. But if it does I will not be surprised. It will be a hard day if it does come. I have lived with Cameroonians, worked with Cameroonians, taught Cameroonians, been friends with Cameroonians. They are not abstractions to me. They are not statistics on the news like they are to other Americans. They are friends and colleagues and the thought of them turning on each other is unbearable. If it happens, most Americans won't even notice. Those that do will say something banal like "isn't that terrible" and then forget about it.

For my part, I will weep for Cameroon and for my friends. Sometimes that's all you can do.

Seka Seka

This is one of the biggest popular hits right now in Cameroon. By the Congolese musician Mareshal, "Seka Seka" can be heard blasting from half the bars in the country on any given day. Thanks to the magic of YouTube, you can blast it in your house too. So crank up the volume and enjoy some top notch African pop music, preferably with a cold beer in hand.

Vacation

Yes, I know it's been a while dear readers, and I humbly apologize for being such a slug about posting, but, well, you get busy, or you lose power or your connection, or you're traveling through villages with no cyber cafes. You know how it is...

Right now I'm sitting in the Peace Corps office in Yaoundé catching up on emails, news, and (I hope) this blog. I just returned from two weeks of travelling in northern Cameroon with another volunteer. It was a great trip and I enjoyed seeing the north, which is like a different country in many ways. I will write up the details of my trip, pictures, and my observations about the north at a later time. I will also post some pictures from Christmas - I spent the holiday with my Cameroonian host family (volunteers live with host families during training), so I will write a bit about that as well.

Stay tuned!