Post!

Hi all,

Sorry it has taken a while for me to blog. So many things have happened here, particularly my arrival at post in Bamenda, the regional capital of the Northwest. We as trainees finished our stage in the town of Bafia and swore in on August 18, 2010 to become U.S. Peace Corps Volunteers. It was an amazing feeling to be done with three months of French, Pidgin English, business, and health classes every day. Now we are on our own and can finally begin working. I will not go into it, but let’s just say that my three months in Bafia were extremely rough and I am glad to be able to finally decompress here. I am still amazed at how modern my apartment is here – running water, electricity, tiles, shower, balcony (with a waterfall in view), etc. Even though the water and current goes out every now and again, I am definitely not complaining. Just weird because this was not the Peace Corps experience I imagined. In fact, as modern as my host family’s house was, it is a drastic change comparing life in a large village to a city like Bamenda.

If I could describe Bamenda in one word, it would be: lively. Oh, and scenic. The savannah and hills are gorgeous. In fact, if I am only looking at the scenery from a distance the view reminds me of Costa Rica. Most roads are paved but there are still dirt roads in the neighborhoods and small shops. The main streets, such as Commercial Avenue, are filled with shop after shop after shop after shop. Think Chinatown. With that, there are also bars after bars after bars. Cameroonians, especially in the Northwest, are very social people. There are “white man” stores which sell a gamut of items I thought I had left behind in the States: Snickers bars, ice cream, cranberry juice, yogurt, soy products, whole wheat bread, maple syrup, etc. For transportation, people get around by taking bikes/motos and taxis.

Let me elaborate on transportation. When taking a taxi, first you need to show with your fingers how many people in his taxi. You tell him where you want to go and if he agrees, he honks once. Then you make sure you negotiate the price before you get in. Because I’m “white,” sometimes the driver doubles the price so you just need to tell him directly. Another note is that you do not always have a seat to yourself. The driver will seat as many people as he can into the taxi, which can be between 8-9 people. Sometimes in the front, you sit in the middle between the driver and the passenger, and sometimes you sit on the left side of the driver – that’s when you’re called the “petite chauffeur.” Because I’m small, I do this. At first it was overwhelming and sometimes you get elbowed in the thigh when the driver shifts to first gear...like today (yeah, bruises for days). But c’est la vie – as long as you get from Point A to Point B, I suppose.

Next: Motos. Short for motorcycles. You hop on and hop off. You can seat 2-3 customers and their children, who sit in front/on the driver. Normally, people don’t wear helmets but because there are instances of moto crashes, but Peace Corps Volunteers are required to wear PC-issued helmets. I'm too scared to ride them in Bamenda.

Let me write about two other points, which I have found to be quite interesting. I have mentioned before the split between Anglophones and Francophones (see previous post). I noticed this when meeting with local officials in Bamenda. When I sat down with the governor of the Northwest region to introduce myself as a PCV, he was very cordial and spoke English. We also did not wait very long for this meeting. However, I noticed a very different attitude towards us when meeting with the police and gendarmes. We had to wait much longer and they were not as respectful. They also only spoke French, even though we are in an Anglophone region. Because Anglophones are the minority in a Francophone-dominated country, the police and gendarmes represent the national government.

The last point I’ll discuss today is my experiences here as a Chinese-American. There is no doubt that people already stare at me and other “whites” whether we’re in a town like Bafia or a big city like Bamenda. I have lived in different places like Richmond, VA and Omaha, NE, and even the DC metropolitan area where diversity is not at the same level as in LA or New York. But being here is a whole other ballgame. People stare at me and wonder aloud if I’m Chinese or Japanese. Kids greet me with "hee haw" (which annoys me)or some of those more aware say "Ni hao" (still wrong but no biggie). When I tell them I’m an American, many times they will not believe me. Now, this would not normally bother me as much because I have dealt with this in the past. However, we know that Chinese contractors work in many African countries, Cameroon being one of them. There are also many Chinese products sold - on the street as well as in a few Chinese owned stores. Yet many products are cheap and of bad quality. Many items will break after only a few uses. Because these products are driving out competition from Cameroonian stores, some locals are anti-Chinese. Thus, when I’m walking down the shops and stores, a few people have made rude/ignorant comments to me. I can understand their frustrations, but I don't appreciate them thinking that I'm here to exploit anyone.

But I'll end this post on a good note. I see Obama-gear everywhere...t-shirts, notebooks, wallets, stickers on taxis, names of restaurant/bars, etc. I am currently in search of an Obama market bag. How interesting it would have been to be in Africa on Election Day '08.

Waka fine!