When the world gives you sour milk....

....you make cheese? So, I was at the hospital the other day and a Fulbe woman selling milk arrived. I bought a liter of fresh milk for 250 FCFA (approximately 50 cents). I asked my supervisor's family during lunch how to store the milk so it won't go bad. My supervisor said boil it all tonight and then bring it to a boil again tomorrow morning before I want to drink it. My supervisor's son, on the other hand, said to just leave it out tonight and bring it all to a boil tomorrow. Now I was in a dilemma. To boil or not to boil the milk during the evening. I decided to conduct an experiment; I boiled half at night and kept the other half in a separate container not boiled. When I woke up in the morning, I boiled again the pre-boiled milk. It tasted normal, just like the day before, and I used it in cereal. I picked up the lid to the non-boiled milk, and immediately an awful smell filled the room. It had gone bad overnight...or so I thought. I figured I could give it to the dog anyway, so I started heating it...and soon noticed a change happening to the bad-smelling milk. It was starting to form chunks and I began stirring the liquid with a spoon. When I lifted the spoon, something stuck onto it; CHEESE. It wasn't very much cheese, but I extracted as much as I could. I thought to myself "if I get sick tomorrow, atleast I know why". It tasted so good! Straight up mozzerella! But, after the liquid continued to heat up and boil, the cheese chunks soon melted and were no more. I gave the warm milk to the dog and went about my day happy as ever that my experiments were successful.

27 septembre 2011

My current life schedule:

Monday: go to hospital, do prenatal consultations if female nurse is not there, or help my supervisor with paperwork to send to the health department

Tuesday: go to hospital, vaccination and baby-weighing day, weigh babies and help with vaccination cards and paperwork

Wednesday, Thursday, Friday: teach english at the high school in 4e and 5e classes

Saturday: go out to the fields with some friends or hang out and the house and clean and do laundry

Sunday: go to church at my supervisor's house next to the hospital, come back in the afternoon and put together lessons for class, think about life

September 29, 2011

Mark this date ladies and gents, I have officially turned cous-cous. Yes, since arriving, I have watched women turn cous-cous countless times, and I have often started the turning but never finished, or took turns with little Nini and then Fadi took over to finish the turning process...but tonight, from beginning to end, I turned cous-cous. And it wasn't half-bad either. When turning cous-cous, if the corn flour is not evenly cooked and stirred/turned, then chunks of the powder will remain. My cous-cous, however, was chunkless. It was smooth and yummy and Fadi and I ate it up with some sauce that Nini had prepared earlier. I hadn't tried to turn in a couple of months since a failed attempt with Nini where Fadi had to take over and finish. Have I become stronger, is that why I was able to prepare din for the whole fam tonight? Or has my technique just become better? I have a theory about which muscles in the back are most used here during farming/household chores/cous-cous preparation. Here's the theory: the back muscles worked out here in Cameroon are not the same back muscles that get exercise in the US of A. Maybe the makers of the Nautilus machines at the gym haven't yet designed equipment that can trigger all back muscles. I'm pretty sure the emphasis when farming and turning cous-cous is the upper back muscles. There must be a workout machine for that though. Or maybe working out in a gym just can't come close to good ol' outdoor physical labor. Anywho, yes, cous-cous has been turned, mark this date down in the calendars :). Next, says Fadi, she will write down the date when I cannot only turn cous-cous, but make the sauce along with it and bring it to the house.

Let us remember the eleventh september

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I woke up in a good mood. I had recently purchased a rainbow turtleneck sweater and jean skirt with pink heart decals from Old Navy. The evening before, I had decided to sport the new outfit to school the following day. The morning in middle school started off normal; TA groups followed by social studies. Mid-way through social studies, the principal came on the overhead and asked everyone to please return to their TA groups. No one knew what was going on. A surprise fire drill? Once in our TA groups, we were told the news about the World Trade Center attack. It is hard for me to piece together exactly what I felt. Was I in shock? Too young to understand the significance of the attack or what it meant for the future of our country? I do not recall crying, although I can remember that others did. I remember calling my mother from the TA room and asking if she was alright.

Flashforward to September 11, 2010; last year. I had just printed off the recommended-supply-list for Peace Corps Volunteers going to Niger and was considering what things I still needed to buy. I turned on the television to CNN to watch the ceremony from the World Trade Center. I do not remember the ceremony though. What I remember were people fighting; one group who wanted to build a mosque several blocks down from where the Twin Towers stood, the other group who did not want the mosque built. I kept thinking, isn't this what they wanted? Doesn't Al Quaeda want to break our nation apart like this? I started to cry, and then shut off CNN before heading to work in the afternoon.

Today was the tenth anniversary of September 11, 2001. It was raining when I woke up this morning. It was raining all day and so I stayed in my house. I made myself oatmeal for breakfast and gave some to my dog. I read a little bit, and when the rain turned to a drizzle, I walked to the hospital in the early afternoon to say hello to my supervisor and his family. Even if I tried, I could not be more-removed from the ceremonies and rememberings and words about 9/11. And here I am still thinking about it. I find myself thinking about Al Quaeda and what they are doing in this world. What they did ten years ago today, and more recently, what they did this past January when I was in Niger. It is because of them that I am here in Cameroon and not there. It is because of them that our nation's history has forever been changed. My supervisor didn't understand when I tried to explain to him what a "flashbulb memory" is; one that sticks with you forever, rainbow turleneck, jean skirt, and all.

Out in the fields

September 4, 2011

So the family who lives right next to me that I spend time with every day has been inviting me out to see their fields since the summer began...and the day finally came for the trip yesterday. The youngest daughter, Nini, came to get me around nine in the morning. I had my mini backpack all ready- swiss army knife, neosporin and bandaids, full water bottle, baseball cap; you can just never be too prepared, ya know? Babba (father of the fam) had already headed out to the field, so Nini, Dadda (mama Fadi), Saddam (the only boy of the kids, second youngest to Nini), my new puppy Mila and I headed out. We passed field after field of other's crops. Lots of corn and lots of beans with other veggies mixed in. Along the way, we found a friend of Saddams' plus his puppy playing in a cornfield and they decided to join us. Mila was in heaven...as was I walking along these beautiful fields and into the bush behind our village.

Introducing... Mila...she says woof

Whenever the fam has talked about their "champs" or field, they describe it as being not-too-far. Let me tell you though....it was a trek. But, as my sister always says, it's all about the journey not the destination. We transversed two streams, went up and down two huge hills and passed countless other bean fields before finally reaching their field. The voyage took about an hour. After their field, there is nothing but bush. Yes, their field is the last one. When I turned around, I could no longer make out our village, just specks of tin roofs and pavement where the road continues after our town. We sat down for a few minutes and had a biscuit snack that Fadi brought. She was fasting for the day (even after Ramadan, some people are still into it and go for an extra week....um ya'll are crazy) but the rest of us ate up the biscuits and drank down my entire water bottle. Then we walked down the rivine to their field. I asked Babba why their field is so far out from the others, and he said they didn't want just any field and that this is the best one even if it takes longer to arrive there.

In the fields

In their field, they have already planted corn, sugar cane and peanuts. At the top of the rivine, they planted two fields of beans. They hired a cow team a couple weeks back to help turn the land for the beans, but for the rest of the crops down the hill, the land was all worked by hand. There is a stream that runs through they field, or it's better to say that their field has been strategically placed so that a stream brings water at all times. The first thing they did is set up corn to dry. Fadi had apparently already done this yesterday, but the wind in the night caused it to fall down. The corn has already been cut from the ground, but they arranged it in a huge column around one central still-in-ground stalk. I watched most of this process because I had no idea what was going on and I'm ridiculously weak compared to these jacked Cameroonians. They tied to stalks with a rope and will leave it like that for a week to dry.

Babba and corn column

Babba with sugar cane

Then the real work began. Fadi brought peanuts to plant. Saddam plus his friend dug holes, Fadi placed peanuts, and Nini and I went behind Fadi covering all the holes. We planted one field full and by the time it was done, I was pretty spent. Just by covering the holes. Fadi was still rearing-to-go after she helped make the corn column and place peanuts...and she was fasting...man these peeps are strong. Anywho, so we headed back up the rivine. It was just about noon at this point. The fam has a straw hut by the bean fields for shelter when it rains and we hung out by that. Saddam started up a fire and roasted us all fresh corn. Mila and I chowed down on fresh corn; I was surprised she likes it.

Then we collected our things and each grabbed some wood that was collected and headed back. But we only made it halfway back before the rain started. So we ducked in another person's straw hut and hung out there for about an hour. We arrived back in the village around three in the afternoon. I went back to the house to wash up and then arrived at the fam's house for din. In the time that I was at my house, Fadi had made the sauce and cous-cous and bru-ee. And then broke her fast at 6:30 pm. I honestly don't know how she does it.

Saddam, Nini and Sakina

All in all, a great day out in the field. Beautiful walk, great scenery and it felt good to do some physical labor. I will be going out again before the season is over.

Ramadan

1 septembre 2011

Ramadan....was sadly uneventful. I fasted for a total of 6 days, which isn't much compared to the feats of other people in the village, but I was proud that I attempted it just to see if it was physically possible for me. On the morning of Ramadan, I was supposed to go to "the hill" in village with some friends to watch the large prayer around 9/10 in the morn. But it started raining, so they ended up doing a shortened-version of the prayer, and I missed it. Bummer. There's always next year...inshallah. So then I was at my house not doing anything so I went to the hospital. But no one had come to work due to the holiday, so I just hung out at my supervisor's house and chilled with the kiddos (fave past time). In the afternoon there was a soccer game between the men of the village and "elites", or men native to the village who have since found work and moved to the city of Ngaoundere. I watched the game with my supervisor and then went back to their house for din. There was some dancing and "fete-ing" in the evening, but I didn't feel up to it, so I went to bed pretty early. At 4 am I woke up randomly and could still hear the music blaring from the party at the chief's house.

A tradition at Ramadan is to buy and wear new clothes. The adults sport their new look to the morning prayer and the children wear the new attire (complete with new braids and henna for girls and hair cut for boys) all day long and just walk around showing it off and acting like they are "kindof big deals".
The Ramadan date depends on the lunar calendar. In the days leading up to the holiday, everyone knows that it's coming but never knows the actual date. It's not until the night before that people are informed it will be the following day. Also, 40 days after Ramadan, the Tabaski holiday will take place here.

Children in front of my house, all decked out for the celebration

Also, people aren't supposed to get married during Ramadan. So, naturally, the day right after the holiday, there were two marriages (that I know of) here in village. People also aren't supposed to drink during the month leading up to R-dan that they're fasting. So, yes, the evening of dancing I'm sure would have been eventful had I been up for it.

Another little tradition is that kids (in their hot new outfits) walk around the village and say "Barka da salla" to adults. It means Happy Holiday! And when they do that, adults are supposed to say "Salla da goro" and give them a goro, which I was told by someone is a kola nut but another person told me it's just a candy. So it seems to me that Ramadan is a mix between Christmas and Halloween with the presents and walking-around-candy-giving tradition.

So ya, Ramadan came and went, pretty uneventful for me, but everyone in village seemed happy about it. Barka da salla!

Fasting

August 22, 2011

Fasting for Ramaddan

Day 1: Um what... surprisingly and shockingly good. So I have never fasted before in my entireee life, I don't remember the last time I skipped a meal much the less didn't have my water bottle glued to my hand in this heat. Ramaddan here in village has been well under way for three weeks, and people aren't even phased by it. It is also bean season which means that everyone is working in the fields all day with no food and no water. Um if they can do that, I can give this whole fasting thing a shot. So, with fasting, here are the rules:
-Wake up between 4 and 4:30 am. Eat as much as you can between that time and 4:58 am. Go pray at 5:00 am.
-Don't touch food or water again until 6:30 pm but pray at 1:30 pm and 3:30 pm and 6ish pm
-Chug water and eat as much as humanly possible between 6:30 and 7 pm
-Pray again at 7 pm, and continue the feasting until you pass out around 8:30 pm
-Wake up. Do it all again for one month
So last night I ate with my usual fam and they were all really tired, so I can back early around 8pm. I was still hungry for some reason (of what? fourth meal of the day? it's fine) so I munched on some trail mix in bed while listening to music and fell asleep around 10 pm.
I woke up at 6am, whoops already past 5 am, can't eat. So I didn't. I worked in the garden a bit in the morning, washed laundry, went to another village for drop off a report with someone from the hospital, visited the hospital, came back, worked on a campaign with someone in village who is distributing medicine, made food, brought it over to the fam, and "broke fast" at 18:32 by drinking some bru-ee and munching on cucumber salad that I had made. And then I consumed (in this order): bennets made by Nini with bru-ee, cucumber salad, water, more bru-ee, couscous part 1 with my sauce plus fadi's sauce, cucumber salad, more couscous with meat sauce from a friend.
But during the fast, I wasn't hungry. I wasn't grumpy. I craved water a bit in the afternoon but it wasn't bad. I feel fine. But this makes me worried. Here are my possible reasons for a successful fasting day 1:
1. there is something seriously wrong with my body so not having food or water for 20 hours didn't phase it
2. mind over matter. I knew that I could do this and that I wanted to because everyone else works so much harder than me in the fields and if they can do it, I can do it.
3. It is still day 1. The lack of nutrition hasn't set in.
4. Maybe I'm normally consuming too many "cous-cous calories" so this is a healthy and necessary cleansing process and my body likes the rest from breaking down carbs
5. I was busy today. If I was sitting in my house reading all day and eyeing the yummy trail mix that my mother sent, things may be different.

August 22

Day 2: still fine, visited health center in morning and worked on a medicine distribution campaign in afternoon. Chowed down at 6:32 pm

August 23

Day 3: starting to feel the effects a bit. This is what my body is doing: right when i wake up and at noon I will be so hungry that I can't focus on anything else. But once I tell myself that I can't eat or drink and I'll just have to wait, the hunger subsides and everything is fine and normal. It is a bit crazy how little food our bodies need to still function.

August 24

Day 4: Today was a bit more difficult. It was sunny alll day long and I working on the medicine distribution campaign both in the morning and afternoon. When the kids came to visit and were jumping around and screaming, I had very little patience and was jealous of their amount of energy (children and people who are sick are exempt from fasting during this month). My goal right now is to fast until the fete/festival of Ramaddan, which will complete one full week.

August 25

Day 5: came into the city. Stomach is growling like crazy, baby-lion-style. Stayin strong, stayin strong. I have my granola bar, peanuts and other snacks ready for when 6 pm hits. Food consumed (in this order) starting at 18:30pm exactly: 2 bags of peanuts, fish + baton manioc + plantains, more peanuts, cracker jacks sent from my mother, more peanuts.

August 26

Day 6: Woke up and subconsciously grabbed my water bottle and chugged some water. Darnit. Broke fast at 7 am. Will not make that same mistake tomorrow.