The problem with my urban village

I returned, at last, after a victorious two week break from post. I was so antsy to return to post, just to get away from all the drama with Peace Corps and other volunteers. Only I forgot why I was so anxious to get away in the first place.

I saw a new road that was built in the 2 weeks I was gone. I asked the gendarme where the road leads to, and was told it goes to the chateau d'eau. Oh, what a surprise. So Andrea and I take a short walk to the end of the road, which happens to be right next to a farm where a few women were working. We ask them, "Where is the chateau d'eau?" Pointing at a piles of rocks, they both reply, "Right there. It is a chateau d'eau!" My frustration with all of this is the knowledge that before the big national agropastural comice/event was even gossiped to have been scheduled to happen here, my village was so content living as they were, waiting for the government to bring them things. I assume this is all a problem of being so close to the city that eventually the government HAS to do something, right? A former PCV had tried to arrange a water source in my village so we wouldn't have to trample through the grasses and mud to fill our bidons when the city water is cut (which is daily). All the villagers had to do was show up to a meeting, and they couldn't even do that. Yet they complain about their quality of life and problems of village development. But now everyone is content because, Gosh! They waited long enough and now the government has finally done something!... Even though there rest a pile of rocks on the end of a dirt road.

Second problem: My landlady knocked at my door at 8 pm to borrow 5,000 CFA, a good amount of money. She said it was because she didn't have enough money to buy peanuts to plant. Let me break down this situation.
1) This is a peanut culture. People never eat all of their peanuts from the harvest before because they know they have to plant more next season.
2) She just built a sweet porcherie that rests empty because she probably ran out of money to buy a piglet. Also, she just built a brand new kitchen that is really nice, and probably most of the size of my house.
3) She has just now decided to lay some new cement on my stairs and the stairs to all three of the apartments.
4) Finally, how many peanuts is she planning on buying? There is no way that she could spend 5 mille on peanuts. It might actually be humanly impossible to spend that much on peanuts unless you are planning on feeding the entire city of Ebolowa peanut sauce for dinner.

So not only is the problem that maybe she is bad with her finances, or maybe that she is liar (and an uber-religious Witness, at that. God is judging you!), but then she came to my door the next morning at 8 am to ask for the money because I said I could have it for her in the morning. Seriously? Does she think that I made 5 mille appear in the 12 hours between 8 pm and 8 am, all of that time spent in my pajamas?

...I actually had exactly 5 mille I could have given her, but what message would that have sent?...

The amusing thing is that there is a chart that helps PCVs identify what stage they are at in their volunteer experience, as most volunteers follow a progression of different emotions. Right now I am at the intolerance of host culture stage. Yup, that is right on.

But thank God for puppies, right? They make everything better! Kittens are cute, too, but I have puppies running around, and I have my puppy claimed. He is currently the littlest puppy, brown like his mama, and covered in fleas and infested with worms. But soon he will be mine and I will buy the magic medicine at le veterinaire to make him the best cared for dog in all of Ebolowa. Unless he dies between now and next week, which is always a possibility.

Also, I will go to a seminar on tree propogation techniques like marcotting and grafting. This will be at a place in Cameroon where I can see three countries at once: Cameroon, Guinea Eq. and Gabon. Hopefully, too, I will learn something that might be a useful skill.

Until next time!

GENIUS!

This past Saturday I went on my first hike since leaving America. It was my second time out to visit a farmer, though the first successful time. Sometime in February Serges and I were solicited to work out au village, about 1 hr away by moto. I was so excited that I agreed to pay 6000 CFA (a lot to drop in one day on transport) to the moto driver. When Serges and I reach the village, we start our search for a man named Eric. We do not find him au village, and are told to wait at the closest arrondisement. We arrive at the next biggest village, where we wait a while. Finally a 16 year old boy, the son of our farmer, comes to tell us we have to go en bruce, 5 km, to see him. "What? Why isn't he here and why did he send his son?" Convinced that we were forgotten and stood up, and moreover not prepared to walk out 5 km en bruce, we left feeling disheartened. But Eric solicited us again and we set our appointment for last Saturday.

Prepared for a hike, Serges ported his boots and we met Eric out on the road. After an hour of hiking past fields, ponds, through wetlands and streams, we finally reach Bakasi, named after the disputed Nigerian/Cameroonian border. As it turns out, this man and his entire family live 3 km away from the nearest road, 5 km from the nearest school, in what I like to call homesteading. 15 years ago, he started digging (by hand) his first fish pond and 13 years ago he moved his entire family out to his 50 hectares of land. Now what he has is 13 fish ponds, one of which looks natural and surpasses the size of Ebolowa's Lake, 6 small ponds for fish reproduction (multiplication?), 13 mutton, a pig, chicken, fruit trees, rice, plantain, and every other usual culture of the South. This man was a genius, in many ways, because he got away from the noise of living in village, can more effeciently work the land (without the commute), and has a very well integrated agricultural system. Everyone calls him crazy for this, because his children walk 5 km there and back to get to school everyday, and he has to carry his dying fish out for an hour before he hits a road where he can sell (his delicious Tilapia). But he is really just someone with a new idea (hard to come by in Cameroon), who is doing it successfully (he will soon become the chef of his village... as soon as his sons are old enough to have families of their own), while everyone else watches with jealous eyes. It may be Paradise in Cameroon. Especially to sit there, drinking palm wine, eating fresh fish, overlooking a beautiful lake.