Previous to last Thursday, my interactions regarding the UN included:
1. A tour of the UN with my family in 9th grade
2. Dickinson Model UN trips to Montreal/DC where we went clubbing instead of attending meetings
3. And, a love of the movie, “The Interpreter.” Great movie AND takes place in the UN.
Luckily, my wealth of experience helped me out when I accidently – truly, without meaning to – attended a UN meeting. Oops.
What happened was Claire and I who intern together a “Cameroon Youth and Students for Peace” went in Thursday instead of Wednesday. Totally our fault, our boss even emailed us saying come in on Wednesday but we missed the email. So we get to internship and Eugene, our fantastic boss, just says “Well, I meant to see you on Wednesday – today I am giving a presentation at UNFP. You guys can come along.” I didn’t realize what the UNFP was (hint: United Nations Food Program) but I knew something was up when we went to Basto, the richest and nicest neighborhood in Yaoundé. Then we get greeted at the gate and go through security. And, most notably of all, there is AC in the building. Um, whaaaaaaat.
Anyways, so then we go inside a conference room where everyone is dressed to the nines except Claire and I who look ridiculous in our cotton skirts and tank tops. If being the only white girls under the age of thirty wasn’t enough, my style of dress is actually offensive.
The meeting was largely non-profit, for-youth groups giving presentations to UN officials. Nothing exciting to report (especially since I was everyone was speaking French) but we did get included – no, forced – to join the “photo with the UN family.” Absurd.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Not quite cameroonian
Without a doubt, I am the strangest thing that has ever entered the Ebai household. On a daily basis I do something so bizarre, so completely ridiculous that the entire family looks at me and will repeatedly ask, "Anne, what ARE you doing?" To begin with, sitting on the ground is absolutely a no. The first time I did it, the entire family commented "Anne what are you doing on the floor?" and then before I had a chance to respond, asked whoever else was around, "Why is Anne on the floor? Get her a chair." Helen's response was the most memorable, "Anne, are you a Muslim? You sit like one." I mean, sitting on the floor made perfect sense -- it was a beautiful day and everyone was outside cooking so I just wanted to be where the fun was. They sweep they ground everyday too, so its not even dirty. Nevertheless, I definitely crossed a cultural norm with that one.
Then there is the subject of braiding my hair. Melanie and Helen truly can't fathom why I like my hair braided and think I have no sense of style when I asked if they can braid it for me. Of course, as students in school they have to wear there hair in cornrows and only on Sundays can they style it which is always a big to-do.
Reading for fun is also considered if not a waste of time, then just REALLY weird. At least twice a week I have a conversation that goes something like this:
Helen: "Is that book for school?"
Me: "No, just for fun."
Helen: "Do you have to read it?"
Me: "No."
Helen: "Why are you reading it then?"
Me: "Because I like to read.”
Helen: “But you just read a book last week.”
After this, I can count on Helen to mutter, “Anne loves to read...” [To be fair, I am reading an awfully lot here. Little to no access to TV or internet has definitely upped my reading habits and I’ve read at least 12 books this semester. Glorious. Amazing what I can do without facebook...]
Exercise is an interesting topic too which whenever I mention it, my parents warn me that I could “die.” Yes, death is apparently a common result of physical activity. Whenever I walk to school, I repeatedly told how far the walk is (well, that would be 50 minutes) and how that I will get dehydrated and DIE. My decision to climb Mount Cameroon was literally meet with shock and Auntie Susan, in the absolutely kindest way possible said, "People die on the mountain each year” (Sure, the mountain was cold and a tough hike, but I can definitively say death was never an option).
Most recently, I found out that it is unheard of for women to eat street food -- soya, sliced fruit, popcorn, boiled eggs, spaghetti sandwiches, beignets etc. This is actually absurd -- at this point I have offended the entire country of Cameroon since ALL I eat is street food and on a daily basis proclaim it the best thing on earth (and why not? For six cent I can buy the best beignets I’ve ever had).
Even my toothpaste is a subject of debate which Helen described as "the worst taste in the entire world -- I would rather die than brush my teeth with that." Umm. well, okay.
I could definitely continue this list..probably write a book the subject, but I'll leave it hereee
Then there is the subject of braiding my hair. Melanie and Helen truly can't fathom why I like my hair braided and think I have no sense of style when I asked if they can braid it for me. Of course, as students in school they have to wear there hair in cornrows and only on Sundays can they style it which is always a big to-do.
Reading for fun is also considered if not a waste of time, then just REALLY weird. At least twice a week I have a conversation that goes something like this:
Helen: "Is that book for school?"
Me: "No, just for fun."
Helen: "Do you have to read it?"
Me: "No."
Helen: "Why are you reading it then?"
Me: "Because I like to read.”
Helen: “But you just read a book last week.”
After this, I can count on Helen to mutter, “Anne loves to read...” [To be fair, I am reading an awfully lot here. Little to no access to TV or internet has definitely upped my reading habits and I’ve read at least 12 books this semester. Glorious. Amazing what I can do without facebook...]
Exercise is an interesting topic too which whenever I mention it, my parents warn me that I could “die.” Yes, death is apparently a common result of physical activity. Whenever I walk to school, I repeatedly told how far the walk is (well, that would be 50 minutes) and how that I will get dehydrated and DIE. My decision to climb Mount Cameroon was literally meet with shock and Auntie Susan, in the absolutely kindest way possible said, "People die on the mountain each year” (Sure, the mountain was cold and a tough hike, but I can definitively say death was never an option).
Most recently, I found out that it is unheard of for women to eat street food -- soya, sliced fruit, popcorn, boiled eggs, spaghetti sandwiches, beignets etc. This is actually absurd -- at this point I have offended the entire country of Cameroon since ALL I eat is street food and on a daily basis proclaim it the best thing on earth (and why not? For six cent I can buy the best beignets I’ve ever had).
Even my toothpaste is a subject of debate which Helen described as "the worst taste in the entire world -- I would rather die than brush my teeth with that." Umm. well, okay.
I could definitely continue this list..probably write a book the subject, but I'll leave it hereee
Party like its 1975
I’ve been here for nearly four months so you would’ve think I had a handle on African time by now, which I’ve already been existing on for the past twenty-one years of my life anyways. Last Thursday my Dad invited me to be his guest at his high school reunion and tells me that we will leave at 4 PM on Saturday. So, at 4 PM I start getting dressed, shower, and enjoying what I know will be late start to the day, even putting on make-up and cleaning my room knowing I will have time to spare. This was naive on my part, we didn't leave until 9(!) pm....five hours later....
When we finally did get to the reunion (where I was only white girl there, and only person under 40), the party hadn’t even started and my Mom complained “If it was me, I would’ve left at 10. What was Dad thinking....?” Despite the late start, it was a fantastic night and after a short set of speeches and dinner, we the party began. Great nite, until I asked my Dad how long the reunion went to, "Well we stay here until 7:30 am and then go to church." UM, WHAT. Thankfully, we left "early" at 3 am.
When we finally did get to the reunion (where I was only white girl there, and only person under 40), the party hadn’t even started and my Mom complained “If it was me, I would’ve left at 10. What was Dad thinking....?” Despite the late start, it was a fantastic night and after a short set of speeches and dinner, we the party began. Great nite, until I asked my Dad how long the reunion went to, "Well we stay here until 7:30 am and then go to church." UM, WHAT. Thankfully, we left "early" at 3 am.
Mont Cameroun
Okay, well this was EASILY one of the coolest things I’ve done and without a doubt the most athletic (hah, as if that was even in question).
On Friday, we took a public bus to Buea, a town five hours and home to Mt. Cameroon. We got in around 4:30 pm and spent the evening organizing our backpacks, buying food supplies (chocolate, raisins, cookies, & peanuts were the main snacks), and grabbing dinner. We all went to bed by 10 am except for the boys who, and really I’m incredibly impressed with this, decided to stay up and drink before the hike. Meanwhile I went to bed early and spent the night somewhat anxiously anticipating the climb. Mount Cameroon is the tallest mountain in West Africa and if that wasn’t enough it is the second tallest mountain in Africa which was pretty impressive/terrifying to me.
The next morning, we headed out by 7 am and after meeting our guide and porters started hiking at 8 am (even though we had porters, we each still had a backpack to carry filled with our change of warm clothes, water, and food). For me, the hardest part of the hike was the first thirty minutes where you gradually begin the climb. I mean arguably this part of the hike wasn’t even uphill, but I was actually grasping for breath (& sweating profusely) and knowing that I was already struggling but had only just left was disconcerting to say the least. After crossing the open field, we entered the rainforest an hour later which was a lot more enjoyable -- its beautiful and a lot cooler with the shade and by 1030 am we reached Hut One where we took a thirty minute break. After that, we entered the savanna (grassland) and considered the hardest part of the mountain since it is so steep and there is no solid ground to step on, just small rocks which slide out from under your feet. At noon, we made it to the middle hut/had lunch. At this point, we were just above the clouds and it was gorgeous. The weather was perfect -- sunny but not extremely hot and the wind was pushing the clouds so they seemed to rolling right pass us on the green mountaintop. At 1 pm, back to hiking. This part of the hike was realllllly steep and when you look down the mountain disappears as if it is a 90 degree angle. By 4:30 pm we reached Hut Two.
The sun was setting and it got cold fast. I spent the entire night sitting in front of the campfire bundled up in my two socks, leggings, tank top, long sleeve shirt, jacket, scarf, and gloves and was still freezing The best of the night was in the evening when most of the group had gone to bed and it was just a few of us and the porters around the campfire listening to traditional African tales. Then, in order to please the god of the mountain who is half-human/half-stone, the porters had us honor the god and dance around the fire while they chanted in the village language. We went to bed soon after where I was one of the unlucky ones who had to share a sleeping bag since we were short. We did get to sleep in tents which while far away from the campsite and impossible to get to was much better than the rat-infested huts.
The next day we were up by 4 am for breakfast and then started hiking at 5 am. This part of the hike was not too hard, just bitter cold, and by 9:15 am we reached Hut There where we quickly ate, had water, and put on more layers (I looked a green monster...dressed entirely in army fatigue green). After that, it was only a 45 minute hike to the top. The weather and landscape was amazing -- the wind was strong enough to push us over and the whole placed looked like scorched earth (which it is -- Mount Cameroon is an active volcano). Finally, we reached the summit at 10 am. Really one of the most unbelievable moments, I don’t really have words for the sense of accomplishment we all felt. Hiking Mt. Cameroon is not a part of the study abroad program, but we still had nearly the entire group come and all of us who did made it to the top which made the whole experience even better.
From there, we turned around and hiked down. Easier on the lungs, but a lot harder on the legs and when we finally reached the bottom of the mountain at 7:30 pm I could barely move my legs. They didn’t even hurt, I just simply couldn’t feel them.
Whew. So that’s that. Mount Cameroon. Done and done.
On Friday, we took a public bus to Buea, a town five hours and home to Mt. Cameroon. We got in around 4:30 pm and spent the evening organizing our backpacks, buying food supplies (chocolate, raisins, cookies, & peanuts were the main snacks), and grabbing dinner. We all went to bed by 10 am except for the boys who, and really I’m incredibly impressed with this, decided to stay up and drink before the hike. Meanwhile I went to bed early and spent the night somewhat anxiously anticipating the climb. Mount Cameroon is the tallest mountain in West Africa and if that wasn’t enough it is the second tallest mountain in Africa which was pretty impressive/terrifying to me.
The next morning, we headed out by 7 am and after meeting our guide and porters started hiking at 8 am (even though we had porters, we each still had a backpack to carry filled with our change of warm clothes, water, and food). For me, the hardest part of the hike was the first thirty minutes where you gradually begin the climb. I mean arguably this part of the hike wasn’t even uphill, but I was actually grasping for breath (& sweating profusely) and knowing that I was already struggling but had only just left was disconcerting to say the least. After crossing the open field, we entered the rainforest an hour later which was a lot more enjoyable -- its beautiful and a lot cooler with the shade and by 1030 am we reached Hut One where we took a thirty minute break. After that, we entered the savanna (grassland) and considered the hardest part of the mountain since it is so steep and there is no solid ground to step on, just small rocks which slide out from under your feet. At noon, we made it to the middle hut/had lunch. At this point, we were just above the clouds and it was gorgeous. The weather was perfect -- sunny but not extremely hot and the wind was pushing the clouds so they seemed to rolling right pass us on the green mountaintop. At 1 pm, back to hiking. This part of the hike was realllllly steep and when you look down the mountain disappears as if it is a 90 degree angle. By 4:30 pm we reached Hut Two.
The sun was setting and it got cold fast. I spent the entire night sitting in front of the campfire bundled up in my two socks, leggings, tank top, long sleeve shirt, jacket, scarf, and gloves and was still freezing The best of the night was in the evening when most of the group had gone to bed and it was just a few of us and the porters around the campfire listening to traditional African tales. Then, in order to please the god of the mountain who is half-human/half-stone, the porters had us honor the god and dance around the fire while they chanted in the village language. We went to bed soon after where I was one of the unlucky ones who had to share a sleeping bag since we were short. We did get to sleep in tents which while far away from the campsite and impossible to get to was much better than the rat-infested huts.
The next day we were up by 4 am for breakfast and then started hiking at 5 am. This part of the hike was not too hard, just bitter cold, and by 9:15 am we reached Hut There where we quickly ate, had water, and put on more layers (I looked a green monster...dressed entirely in army fatigue green). After that, it was only a 45 minute hike to the top. The weather and landscape was amazing -- the wind was strong enough to push us over and the whole placed looked like scorched earth (which it is -- Mount Cameroon is an active volcano). Finally, we reached the summit at 10 am. Really one of the most unbelievable moments, I don’t really have words for the sense of accomplishment we all felt. Hiking Mt. Cameroon is not a part of the study abroad program, but we still had nearly the entire group come and all of us who did made it to the top which made the whole experience even better.
From there, we turned around and hiked down. Easier on the lungs, but a lot harder on the legs and when we finally reached the bottom of the mountain at 7:30 pm I could barely move my legs. They didn’t even hurt, I just simply couldn’t feel them.
Whew. So that’s that. Mount Cameroon. Done and done.
Monday, April 25, 2011
A Cameroonian Easter
I have to admit, I had low expectations for Easter here, no cadbury eggs AND church service at 5:30 AM -- the situation looked dire. But, I totally lucked out, not only did the family skip church service because they were afraid of traveling in the dark (though, don't for a second think my family isn't religious, my Mom attended two church services on Good Friday) but instead I spent the day cooking and partying at baptism reception for Anna's host siblings. In the morning, after exploring Mendong and even making it to the outskirts of Yaounde, I helped my host Mom make 100(!) meat pies. Afterwards, I went to Anna's where I think I morally offended her host Dad when I said that one beer was more than enough for me. Bon Fete.
Far North
Whew. So back from the Far North. I felt like a globetrekker -- nothing about the journey there was easy -- but it was fantastic and showed me another side of Africa. It would be a real wasted effort to try and summarize the past nine days so instead here are the most memorable moments:
- Travel: 36 hours on the train (eight of which were a breakdown) + over thirty hours in a bus. I think I could've handled the extreme heat/lack of AC & cramped quarters but I've lost my iPod which did not do me any favors...whine.whine.whine.
-Waza. This is the national park where we went on safari. We saw giraffes, monkeys, antelopes, wild boar, vultures, and lions. So neat. And, to give an idea how hot it was in the North, our "hotel" (re: room with bed) didn't have AC and in the end the whole group risked the bugs/possible wild animals to sleep outside just on our mattresses.
-Maroua. This is the capital of the Far North and excluding the oppressive heat the city is beautiful. The quiet dusty streets are lined with shady trees and the architecture feels like something out of the Middle East. A far cry from chaotic and crowded Yaounde.
-Muslim influence. The Far North is largely Muslim so not only is the style of dress much different (conservative, less western) but people's behavior is too. Whereas in the South of Cameroon, I am constantly bombarded as a white, here I left in peace and even the aggressive market vendors let me pass largely undisturbed. Of course, while I think there is something to be said for this, the Muslim influence also dictates strict gender roles. I hate the idea of being culturally imperialistic, but there is no way around it for me, some of the practices in the north I think undeniably violate human rights, including:
-Female Genital Mutation
-Acceptance for women as young as twelve marrying men of any age
-Shame associated with being an unmarried woman
-Expectation that women should never been seen by other men and are thus confined to the home and are nothing more than objects.
The list goes on and the necessity of keeping a woman "pure" for her husband results in bizarre ways -- there are few taxis since men hate the idea of their wives sitting next to strange men in the car and city lacks storey buildings because of the fear that men who live in upper level apartments could look down to a another courtyard and see another man's wife.
-Village life: We only drove on main roads, but nevertheless the villages we passed were so isolated and consisted just of mud huts with straw roofs and maybe a mosque. While I can do without TV/cell phone/internet for a period of time, I really can't imagine a community entirely absent of all this.
-And, best of all, we went on a six mile hike that took us over the Cameroon border and into Nigeria. No border patrol, you simply pass a small rock that marks the line and then are in Nigeria.
Obviously this doesn't even begin to describe the trip, but it was really was terrific and, because my sister is great, I even had a camera to take lots of pictures which really illustrate everything I am trying to say.
- Travel: 36 hours on the train (eight of which were a breakdown) + over thirty hours in a bus. I think I could've handled the extreme heat/lack of AC & cramped quarters but I've lost my iPod which did not do me any favors...whine.whine.whine.
-Waza. This is the national park where we went on safari. We saw giraffes, monkeys, antelopes, wild boar, vultures, and lions. So neat. And, to give an idea how hot it was in the North, our "hotel" (re: room with bed) didn't have AC and in the end the whole group risked the bugs/possible wild animals to sleep outside just on our mattresses.
-Maroua. This is the capital of the Far North and excluding the oppressive heat the city is beautiful. The quiet dusty streets are lined with shady trees and the architecture feels like something out of the Middle East. A far cry from chaotic and crowded Yaounde.
-Muslim influence. The Far North is largely Muslim so not only is the style of dress much different (conservative, less western) but people's behavior is too. Whereas in the South of Cameroon, I am constantly bombarded as a white, here I left in peace and even the aggressive market vendors let me pass largely undisturbed. Of course, while I think there is something to be said for this, the Muslim influence also dictates strict gender roles. I hate the idea of being culturally imperialistic, but there is no way around it for me, some of the practices in the north I think undeniably violate human rights, including:
-Female Genital Mutation
-Acceptance for women as young as twelve marrying men of any age
-Shame associated with being an unmarried woman
-Expectation that women should never been seen by other men and are thus confined to the home and are nothing more than objects.
The list goes on and the necessity of keeping a woman "pure" for her husband results in bizarre ways -- there are few taxis since men hate the idea of their wives sitting next to strange men in the car and city lacks storey buildings because of the fear that men who live in upper level apartments could look down to a another courtyard and see another man's wife.
-Village life: We only drove on main roads, but nevertheless the villages we passed were so isolated and consisted just of mud huts with straw roofs and maybe a mosque. While I can do without TV/cell phone/internet for a period of time, I really can't imagine a community entirely absent of all this.
-And, best of all, we went on a six mile hike that took us over the Cameroon border and into Nigeria. No border patrol, you simply pass a small rock that marks the line and then are in Nigeria.
Obviously this doesn't even begin to describe the trip, but it was really was terrific and, because my sister is great, I even had a camera to take lots of pictures which really illustrate everything I am trying to say.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Traveling
Going to the Extreme Nord tomorrow!! This is honestly the most excited I've been for a trip in, well, ever. Obviously coming to Cameroon had its share of anxieties pre-departure and other trips around the US/Europe have had a level of familiarity that maybe took away from the adventure. The Extreme Nord is the very end of Cameroon and the region furthest away from the Atlantic Ocean and is the part of Cameroon wedged between Nigeria and Chad. It's brutally hot -- 39 degrees Celsius...which while I do not know what that translates to in Fahrenheit I can assume I will probably die if Cameroonians call it hot. The region is predominantly Muslim and has Waza National Park where there are lions. Here's to you, Simba.
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