RIP Simba

About my 2^nd week at post, I had gotten a kitten which I named Simba.  I’m not a huge pet aficionado but the rodent problem at my house was getting out of control, so I brought in a specialist.

Simba was a beast. Not only was he incredibly friendly, but he also enjoyed annihilating household pests. That includes mice, lizards, roaches… he even ate wasps.  He took care of the rodent problem almost immediately. Simba and I got pretty tight and hung out on a regular basis. 

He was an outdoor cat so I’d leave a window open practically at all times and he would come in and out as he pleased. Pretty much any time he wasn’t at my house, he was chillin at the neighbors or busy destroying mice outside.  The neighbors also loved him and the kids next door also grew pretty fond of Simba. Simba grew even bigger, faster, stronger.

Last week, I hadn’t seen Simba for about a day or two. I wasn’t too alarmed as I thought he could be just taking a little vaca.. between my oven of a house and all the hyper kids overrunning the area, he probably needed a break. However, when my neighbors also indicated they had not seen him at all for about 3 days, we grew a little concerned.  I told everyone to keep an eye out to see if we can find Simba.

The next day I came back from town and one of the kids next door told me he found Simba. I asked him if he was sick, the kid said no. He took me behind their house into a little plot of land and pointed to the ground. As I walked up, I saw what I initially thought was just another cow turd, nothing out of the ordinary. But as I got up close, to my horror, I saw Simba’s little decapitated head already in the process of decomposing. He took me a few meters further, and there laid his intestines and a severed paw. The rest of the body was pretty much missing.

To say the least, I was shocked. As we thought of the possibilities, we concluded that the most likely explanation is that someone had eaten Simba, as his head did look as if it had been burned.  Had another animal killed him, there would most likely be a mangled carcass, which was not the case as it looked as if he had been deliberately been taken apart. People in the region have been known to eat just about any animal that comes there way, including dogs, cats, monkeys and mice, because it is more or less free... which I guess is a big draw when you have no money.  I still don’t think any of my neighbors would have eaten him. Many of my Cameroonian friends claim it was an act of sorcery.

I guess we will never know.  RIP Simba

Cyrus Kikgui

So I had a baby named after me last week.

Background

As a part of our Peace Corps program, we are to attend a week long seminar called In Service Training (IST) after 3 months at post. Now that my first 3 months at post (and 6 months in country) had flown by, it was time to prep for IST.  IST also happened to be taking place in my town (Ngaoundere) so I was sort of the quasi-host volunteer for my training group. One of the most important aspects of IST is for every volunteer to invite their primary counterpart. A counterpart is a host country national that will work side-by-side with us and provide support, resources, and sustainability, for our projects.

As I’ve mentioned, I have been working quite a bit with a local Microfinance institution called Credit du Sahel, and my counterpart there, David Kikgui, works predominantly with Agro-pastoral common interest groups and associations. I’m therefore paired with him to help serve this demographic.  Meanwhile, David’s wife was pregnant at the time and due in about a month. However, just about as soon as he arrived at IST with me, his wife started having pains and had to be attended to. Thus, David ended up missing out on about half of IST due to his wife’s hospitalization and his second son being born.

The day his baby was born, he called me and gave me the great news. I said congratulations and whatever other appropriate thing I could think of with my 3^rd grade French vocabulary.  He then asked me for a first name. I was totally at a loss at the moment, so I told him I’d think about it and let him know. So, I did what I usually do in uncomfortable situations... ignore it completely

I saw him about 3 days later when he asked me again about the first name. I had then realized he actually wanted my first name for the baby, which made my job considerably easier. I of course gladly hooked him up. Thus was born Kikgui Dourine Gnassiri Cyrus (first names are listed last here, and his family name is Kikgui, same as his dad's)

The Situation

Is Jersey Shore still cool? I’ve clearly lost touch with all important things

Work Situation 

Now that we’ve hit our 3 month mark at post and just had our IST conference (in service training), we are expected be reasonably integrated and begin working on projects. This brings me to the real reason I’ve come here… development work.

My work situation here is pretty interesting yet chaotic.  As an Agribusiness Advisor, my focus is to improve profitability of agricultural operations with enhanced business practices and move from subsistence farming to commercial farming. Till now I’ve been mostly meeting lots of common interest farming groups and other contacts around the area that will be valuable resources for my work going forward. I’ve thus far learned quite a bit about local agricultural issues and the general challenges faced by the poor in West Africa. 

I am also partnered up with a micro finance institution called Credit du Sahel, and work closely with an associate dealing primarily with Agro-Pastoral common interest groups and associations in the area. I often take trips with him en brusse to meet with clients to follow up on undergoing projects and financing proposals. I am also looking to work on management projects that could improve our branch’s efficiency somewhere down the line. Being paired with an institution helps with work consistency and support, and my counterpart there is pretty legit. As a random side note, I’ve just realized everything I’ve described thus far sounds a lot cooler than it actually is. score.

Apart from primary activities, I have ended up working quite a bit with the local youth. Specifically, I had been teaching English at the local primary school once a week, and now that I’ve finished there, I will be teaching English for the last trimester at the local Jr. high. I will probably not continue with teaching English past this year because I’d like to focus on my primary work, however, it has been a big boost in helping me integrate into the community and raising my visibility around the village. Probably the most random thing I’ve worked on here is my girls group. It was a project my predecessor left me, and is something I’ve continued, with the help of my post mate, who is a girl (it makes much more sense when she is there). Every Thursday at my house we usually do some lecture or activity, followed by an English lesson. The girls range from 7 to 14 years old and are a pretty spontaneous group.  A few of them are standouts in their class and the group has been helpful to them in promoting a certain degree of ambition and motivation.  This has also helped me integrate into the community but I will probably be looking to hand off the torch as I get busier with my primary projects.

Other miscellaneous ambitions include my attempt to make the village’s first computer lab as well as an upcoming business class.  Work here comes along at a snail’s pace, but as they say in Pidgin… small small catch monkey (real English translation: little by little).

Youth Day

February 11 is Youth Day in Cameroon. It is a special holiday to commemorate the Youth and is a pretty big deal around the country.

Leading up to the big holiday (Feb 9^th), I was invited to a remote village about 15 km from Beka Hossere. It is a fairly small poor village where my predecessor had built a school. They invited me to partake in their Youth Day festivities and give a sort of keynote speech. I had prepared what I hoped was a motivational discourse focusing importance of education for the Youth. I also brought along with me a bunch of French books, notebooks, crap tons of candy, and soccer ball.

Upon reaching there I realized I was actually sort of the guest of honor. My post mate had come with me and we were welcomed with a reception. There was a lookout posted at the front of the village with a whistle, and as soon as he saw us riding in on Biya’s (Nana’s little brother) moto, he signaled for everyone to get ready to begin.  The school’s teacher welcomed us and a little girl handed me a bouquet of bright green artificial flowers. The kids were all lined up ready to start the ceremony, and the rest of the villagers were gathered around the school to watch.

As we greeted everyone and settled in, a group of drummers (playing bongo type drums with their hands) entertained everyone while the little kids gathered around and danced.  They also sang in Fufulde, which I don't quite yet understand, but every now and then I’d hear my name in there.  They insisted that I get up and dance, which is of course exactly what I was waiting for. I busted out all the African dance moves I had acquired over the past 6 months which they were delighted to see. The chief of the neighboring village came up and stuck a 1,000 cfa bill ($2) on my forehead, which is a sort of customary thing to do. I felt a little awkward for a second because I can’t possibly take a villagers money.  1,000 francs is a lot in that village. Luckily someone else started dancing so I stuck it on his dome and of course he had no qualms about it. I think I was getting carried away because one of the village elders told me to sit back down. They continued dancing for a while longer and did some choreographed routines the kids were working on. After, the school teacher gave a speech explaining how grateful they were to have us there on this occasion, after which I gave my speech.

The speech went pretty well. I basically did my best to motivate the children to go to school and think about how to attain their highest aspirations. I also explained how my family was from Pakistan, and how there were so many similarities in our cultures, and that they actually remind me of my extended family there. I later included a hadith by prophet Muhammad (since vast majority there were Muslim) encouraging seeking knowledge ‘even unto China’, and concluded with a statement about how the youth are our future, which was meant to be inspiring, though I’m not sure how many people were still paying attention towards the end. Someone was next to me the entire time translating my French into Fufulde. French is the official language in this region, and though they speak French in schools, government institutions, and centers of business, they predominant language is actually the local dialect of Fufulde. Since most of the villagers are illiterate/have not attended school, they only speak Fufulde.

After this I gave my random of assortment of gifts and watched the rest of the ceremony which included some humorous plays, more dances, and some singing.

After the long ceremony, we had lunch in someone’s mud brick hut, which consisted of rice, fish, bread, cous cous, potato, cassava, tea, and of course other stuff I was not familiar with. We left the village that afternoon and headed home.

One thing I noticed leading up to Youth Day was the excitement of the older youth, who were enthusiastic about their potential for attracting females at Youth Day parties.  I remember speaking to a group of them on my porch one morning about their prospects. They were incredibly confident about their capabilities; it was not a question of if but how many. In the culture here the amount of wives one has indicates his wealth, status, and power. I certainly see this mentality engrained at an early age. When I was skeptical, they clued me in on a secret advantage; magic oil. I laughed only to discover they were not at all joking. They were explaining how people do magic way out en brusse and make this strong perfumed potion which females simply could not resist. Apparently upon wearing it, all you had to do was greet a woman, and it was game over, she was ‘trapped’. I thought to myself, if what they said was in fact true, I could import this product to Indianapolis area alone and retire before the age of 30

The young guys told me to come to the Youth Day festivities in Ngaoundere on Feb 11th to see for myself. I gleefully agreed and came into town with my camera. The actual Youth Day event was pretty spectacular. Every school from the area was organized and marched through the town in a parade. It was followed that night with Youth Day parties throughout the area.  Unfortunately, due to enormous crowds of people and jammed cell phones, I was unable to find and witness my group of young guys from Beka Hossere dazzle the women at Youth Day.  

   

MTV Cribs

Lions and Slaves

Yesterday, I went to a nearby village called Selbederong with the volunteer I’m replacing.  It’s a few kilometers away but well worth the bike ride. There we met the chief and his son, Osmanou, with whom my predecessor has already done some work and recommends highly. We saw his farm and pisticulture project, which was not going well due to some large swimming snakes (we witnessed one) that eat all his fish and also some weird tadpole/minnow looking things that were infesting his pond.  I guess I’m supposed to be able to advise him on this sort of thing even though I really don’t know jack.  Not much different from corporate life after all.

My favorite part of the trip came towards the end when we sat around and talked with the old chief, who was telling us how it used to be back in the day. He said it was all much less developed (there’s a large dirt road now connected the village to other parts of Adamawa) and was all basically jungle and brush. We began talking about the disappointing absence of wildlife in Cameroon due to extensive hunting/poaching. The chief’s son commented on how sad it is that Cameroonians essentially killed off all the exotic wildlife. At this point his father, the old chief, chimed in proudly exclaiming how he has killed 3 lions in his life. The last time he killed a lion was only as far back as 1945 (he’s apparently 96), and he did it because the lion was grubbing on his cows.

After the lion story, he also told us about the time his family brought slaves down from Chad.  They apparently walked up to Chad and kidnapped like 20 Chadians and brought them back to Salbederong as slaves. My predecessor asked if they perhaps sought Chadians because they were darker (as was customary in African slave trade) though I didn’t know how feasible this was since the chief and his son were already quite dark. They said because Chadians are ‘grand et solide’ (big and solid). When the country gained independence in 1960, slavery was outlawed and all slaves in Cameroon were freed. He said some of the former slaves still live in their house to this day and are pretty much like family (awkward?).

That’s all I got for now. I will post my mailing address soon so you can send me things as I know you’ve all been eagerly wanting to. 

First week at Beka Hossere…

Here are some details about my post.

Beka Hossere is a small predominantly Muslim village on the outskirts of a large city called Ngaoundere. It is in the Adamawa region, which is the southernmost province in the Grand North. The Grand North is known to be culturally different from the Grand South due to its predominant Fulbe ethnic tribe (prevalent throughout West Africa) and heavy Muslim influence. I typically wake up to the Adzhan (call to prayer) every morning and hear it at my house throughout the day. Many men in the community have multiple wives (but never more than 4) as is the local tradition. Majority of the community does more or less subsistence farming. My primary role is to advise community members on their existing businesses (usually farms), and/or help launch other income generating activities in a sustainable fashion.  

The volunteer before me had opened the post 3 years ago and had the house already set up quite nicely. Opening a post has a different set of frustrations and difficulties altogether and I’m lucky a volunteer has cleared the way so that I can focus on my projects.  I have a small mud brick painted house with a tin roof. There is a decent sized bedroom, family room, and separate dining/kitchen area. The latrine is a tiny room connected to my bedroom with a concrete floor. This is my only qualm as the latrine hole is damn small and rather difficult to use.  I have electricity but no running water. However, there is a forrage (French word for ground water pump) about 100 meters away, so I have to carry water to my house a few times a week. Also, in town is a major Peace Corps boarding house (about 2-3 miles away) with internet and other amenities.  Thus, I should have decent internet access.  Overall, I’m very content with my post and I think I’m a great fit here.

First week at post has been pretty quiet. I have basically been settling in and playing a lot with kids. The hangout spot for the neighboring kids happens to be my porch so the house is always popping. I have attended some girls’ group activities that my predecessor has been organizing for quite some time. Another love letter incident also happened here in bizarrely similar fashion to the first one. Anyways, I have also gotten a chance to meet a couple professional contacts which will be pretty crucial. In particular, I made contact with a community development specialist that works for the Ministry of Agriculture in Ngaoundere which I hope will be useful. I am also in the process of searching for NGO’s that I could collaborate with. One of the biggest frustrations that volunteers site is the absence of local NGO’s, counterparts, and support, when working on projects. My predecessor has also repeatedly emphasized the importance of this. Also, I have lost even more weight my first week at post. I’m not sure if it’s the lack of food options or that I detest my own cooking. Luckily I have been eating dinner at Nana’s almost every day. The menu is rice cous cous (nothing like what we consider cous cous in the states. This is kind of a blandish substance with the consistency that is between mashed potatoes and bread) and gumbo (this is a slimy flavored sauce usually with some type of meat such as beef). Everyone eats out of the same plate and bowl because it’s Muslim tradition. Not the most sanitary situation but it works.

In any case, more later