Je tombe souvant dans la boue -- I often fall in the mud

It’s been a while since I’ve last written, but hopefully I can make up for it with some photos. We have one week left in Dschang with our host families until we embark on our "grand voyage". From there, we will be traveling up north and to the south, one more short host family stay in Ngaoundere for three weeks, and then our ISP (Independent Study Project) for the last four week of the program. That means that after next week my internet access will be even more limited, so my apologies in advance for neglecting the blog.

This weekend we went to Bamenda, a city located in one of the Anglophone provinces. Ahh, speaking English again was such a relief—even though we still had to somewhat translate into our English. Bamenda is known for its beautiful cloths used to make clothes, but it is necessary to know how to bargain before you throw yourself into the chaos of the market. Friday afternoon we had a crash course in Pidgin – which is just a really odd spin off of English mixed in with other native languages.
I be scoopyking -- translates: I am a student
How for you? / How now? -- translates: How are you today?
Who side you come out? -- translates:
Where are you from? I di chop – translates: I am eating
How much di cost dis rapa -- translates: How much does this cost?

We also visited the palace of the Bafut village, which was constructed by their German colonizers in the 1880s, witnessed of one the traditional initiation male dances, and met the Fondu – the superior chief, who has over 40 wives. The Fondu sat perched upon the large stoop of the oldest sacred building in Cameroon in his traditional tribal garments. It was a world completely about upholding tradition and respecting protocol that seemed almost untouched by the industrious world… that is until we saw a huge satellite dish in the middle of one of the court yard and the Fondu’s cell phone went off and we were reminded of the western world influence. He he he.

It still rains all the time, which explains why I often fall in the mud and my taste buds are being exposed to new phenomenons all the time, like macabo with fried “plums”. We had cous cous again last night but this time it was accompanied with another fish based concoction of over 22 ingredients called nkui. Our diners have been rather interesting this week because of the power shortage every night. Sometimes the electricity goes out around six or seven at night and lasts all night. Thus, all our diners this night have been eaten by candlelight and after diner my host siblings and I cram around a candle to finish our homework. My host father told that it is the fault of importing American businesses because of the privatisation of the electric companies, which is be true; however, I think some of it has to do the rain season. The real problem is that Cameroun has the resources to supply their own energy with all the waterfalls and potential dams in the country, however there is no money to develop the technology needed to created electricity from their own resources. Basically, the majority of the fault goes to the government corruption and poor dispersement of funds and aid from abroad. Aside from Boris, my four year old host brother, throwing a slight fit, the nights turn out to be alright and since I couldn’t do all of my homework, I get to go to bed early. C’est la vie.

This weekend I volunteered myself to make breakfast for the family Sunday morning, so I am whipping out my specialty of french toast. Its simple enough for my cuisine skills and I know I can find all the ingredients. I wanted to make pizza because my host sister asks me about it all the time, but I don't think that the cheese that exists here is pizza suitable. Also, cheese is very expensive.

These first couple photos are from our first week in the village of Fongo-Tongo, which is just outside of Dschang, where we’ve been attending school. We spent one afternoon visiting the famous “chute” of Mammy Water, one of the most sacred waterfalls in the region. We were able to hike down to the base of the waterfall but it was too misty to get any clear photos, so this one is taken from above. The other photos are taken in Dschang. Whenever I take out my camera with children around they always yell, “filmez-moi, filmez-moi” (film me). When this first occurred I was quite confused because I thought they were saying “fumez-moi”, which means smoke cigarettes. Thus, one of the photos is three of the four children in my host family along with some other neighborhood kids out front of our house. One photo is me being caught in the rain on my walk home one night…. you can witness the deluge I had to battle along with my gigantic hill that I often slip climbing down, while the neighborhood children pass me by giggling. I also have a photo with my host brothers and sisters. Since I am pretty computer illiterate, I'm not sure how they will turn out, but nous allons voir ..... Enjoy!!

*****Sorry, I couldn't get the photos to upload .... I am afraid you will have to wait until I get home.*****