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!