So i conducted a wee experiment last night where i shut my eyes and thought about the past six months of my life in Cameroon. Here are the main memories that i scribbled down.
Stepping of a plane in Douala to the blistering heat and a chancer in ripped jeans claiming to be the passport inspector asking to see my passport.....Buying watermelon off a wee girl who had them perched on her bonce in a busy market.....Seeing Mount Cameroon for the first time after it had been shrouded in clouds for three weeks.....Flying through the jungle on a dirt road in a death mobile with eight other people.....Walking with Ines and her son to the house of a Rastafarian.....Meeting Kait for the first time and showing her how to lock the door.....saying something meaningful to a deaf person for the first time in my life.....Valerie and i getting hugged by fifty kids at the Jamadianle nursery school.....Children carrying chickens in bags.....A tarantula climbing up my bathroom wall and a flash of recognition on my behalf that yes, i do have mild arachnophobia.....Seeing a shooting star for the first time ever and making a wish.....Dancing to Makossa in Mamfe.....A red Colobus monkey silhouetted against the sky.....Sitting under an avocado tree in Buea university discussing politics.....Watching the sun set over the Atlantic ocean sipping on a beer.....Staring up at the forest canopy whilst floating on my back.....Hearing gunshots and tear gas and almost pooping my pants.....Chasing baby Clara round a table.....Going to Limbe with Meredith and Ernest and the door to the bus falling off.....Snapping Ines as she had her first ever slice of pizza.....Looking into a witch doctors eyes and wondering if he really believes what he is saying.....Teaching for the first time with thirty confused faces staring back at me.....Driving down a mountain road into Bamenda.....Being humbled by everybody at the Buea school for the deaf when i donated some books.....The kids in Bokova all cheering when we arrived for school on wheels.....Watching the coolest thunderstorm that lit up the entire sky.....
I'm sorry if some of that didn't make sense but it was nice for me to remember all those times.
Monday 30 June 2008
Friday 27 June 2008
Bye bye Berit
Cameroonians like a shindig, their celebrations are not done by halves. Funerals can last up to a week and if you get married forget about a honeymoon, you've got a million hands to shake.
Yesterday, Berit's leaving do at the Orock house was not the first party we had to attend. Sam, a nice boy in the neighborhood with a promising artistic talent, invited us to his house for his Aunts graduation from teachers training college.
We said our hellos and shook hands with everybody and i impressed them with my Pidgin English. The lady of the hour showed us her prizes she took including 'Best all round student'. I believe i said congratulations about 97 times. They sat us down and gave us popcorn and beer and we watched as the old granny of the house danced about singing a song of praise with the rather humorous line 'Finally, finally, finally the Lord has done it'. Yes well done to Jesus and to the future teacher for all her hard work and study.
We said our goodbyes and congratulations a further 64 times and headed into the night towards the Orock house. The tradition for a volunteers send-off is a good bit of grub and beer then we all give speeches, but this time there was even entertainment in the form of the wee girls putting on a dance and song about that lovely man Jesus, it was all very sweet. Berit was presented with a lovely African dress and it was a nice end to the evening.
We were all partied out and when i was sitting on the porch i thought about all the volunteers who have come and gone and all their leaving parties that i have been to, Well now i was the next volunteer leaving and the next party would be mine, and that prospect scares me a little.
Yesterday, Berit's leaving do at the Orock house was not the first party we had to attend. Sam, a nice boy in the neighborhood with a promising artistic talent, invited us to his house for his Aunts graduation from teachers training college.
We said our hellos and shook hands with everybody and i impressed them with my Pidgin English. The lady of the hour showed us her prizes she took including 'Best all round student'. I believe i said congratulations about 97 times. They sat us down and gave us popcorn and beer and we watched as the old granny of the house danced about singing a song of praise with the rather humorous line 'Finally, finally, finally the Lord has done it'. Yes well done to Jesus and to the future teacher for all her hard work and study.
We said our goodbyes and congratulations a further 64 times and headed into the night towards the Orock house. The tradition for a volunteers send-off is a good bit of grub and beer then we all give speeches, but this time there was even entertainment in the form of the wee girls putting on a dance and song about that lovely man Jesus, it was all very sweet. Berit was presented with a lovely African dress and it was a nice end to the evening.
We were all partied out and when i was sitting on the porch i thought about all the volunteers who have come and gone and all their leaving parties that i have been to, Well now i was the next volunteer leaving and the next party would be mine, and that prospect scares me a little.
Saturday 21 June 2008
I feel free
When i get up every morning under the African sky i never know what's going to happen to me.
Yesterday i got up and did my laundry then i went to the internet. When i came home i started having vicious stomach cramps, so i knew my day would be spent in the company of my porcelin friend. I had really bad sickness and diaorreaha, It was truly awful.
I have been taking some traditional medicine that Ines' Mum made fom me, it is made from Guinness and some herbs, it has a dark mint-green colour and it was supposed to help me with my yeast problem. Maybe it helped me by totally cleansing my system, as i sit in an internet cafe here in Buea, i do feel a lot better if not extremely dehydrated.
Tomorrow i go to Mamfe again and i just don't know what's going to happen. It's exciting living like this, now that i'm not shackled to the toilet and other constraints in life, i feel completely free....
The internet in Mamfe is not what Bill Gates dreamt of, so i will be back in 5 days or so with more news.
Toodle pip
Yesterday i got up and did my laundry then i went to the internet. When i came home i started having vicious stomach cramps, so i knew my day would be spent in the company of my porcelin friend. I had really bad sickness and diaorreaha, It was truly awful.
I have been taking some traditional medicine that Ines' Mum made fom me, it is made from Guinness and some herbs, it has a dark mint-green colour and it was supposed to help me with my yeast problem. Maybe it helped me by totally cleansing my system, as i sit in an internet cafe here in Buea, i do feel a lot better if not extremely dehydrated.
Tomorrow i go to Mamfe again and i just don't know what's going to happen. It's exciting living like this, now that i'm not shackled to the toilet and other constraints in life, i feel completely free....
The internet in Mamfe is not what Bill Gates dreamt of, so i will be back in 5 days or so with more news.
Toodle pip
Friday 20 June 2008
Buea Boy
The Buea boy is back in town. It's always nice to get back to Buea and see everyone again. All the kids at the Orock house greet me warmly and Frederique 'my friend' at Abidjan actually hugged me, just overjoyed to see me again, it's all rather lovely.
This last month has just dissapeared. I've done so much and had so much fun and the time has flown by. Now time is running out.
The thing i have to do now is start thinking about what i have to do before i leave. Mainly buy a few more presents for everyone and print a few hundred photos of people here (a stipulation of snapping someone is you must give them a copy). I want to try and get that done before i go to Mamfe on Sunday. I also have to work on a new fundraising proposal for UAC and send about a million emails to charities and donar organisations. I also have to write a report for Africa Trust about my stay here.
Ahhhh!!! I'm running out of time!!!
Nice story today. I had just finished scrubbing my laundry and i was sitting relaxing listening to me ipod on the porch when Sandra, one of the cute wee kids in the neighbourhood came to say hello. I let her listen to a track of the new Jose Gonzalez album and she listened to the whole track intently. She was fascinated by it and when she had finished she said "He sounds sad, but sad things can be beautiful" Which i thought was incredibly profound for a nine year old girl.
This last month has just dissapeared. I've done so much and had so much fun and the time has flown by. Now time is running out.
The thing i have to do now is start thinking about what i have to do before i leave. Mainly buy a few more presents for everyone and print a few hundred photos of people here (a stipulation of snapping someone is you must give them a copy). I want to try and get that done before i go to Mamfe on Sunday. I also have to work on a new fundraising proposal for UAC and send about a million emails to charities and donar organisations. I also have to write a report for Africa Trust about my stay here.
Ahhhh!!! I'm running out of time!!!
Nice story today. I had just finished scrubbing my laundry and i was sitting relaxing listening to me ipod on the porch when Sandra, one of the cute wee kids in the neighbourhood came to say hello. I let her listen to a track of the new Jose Gonzalez album and she listened to the whole track intently. She was fascinated by it and when she had finished she said "He sounds sad, but sad things can be beautiful" Which i thought was incredibly profound for a nine year old girl.
Wednesday 18 June 2008
Bamenda
Bamenda is cool, i like Bamenda. It is affectionately termed 'Russia' by Cameroonians due to its climate, but the temperature is fine by me as i'm not sweating bullets 24/7. There's been a nice breeze today and a bit of drizzle. Lovely weather.
We went on a wee tour today, we visited the old town and a giant market. Men clicked their fingers at me and blew me kisses to try and get my attention and business.
"Oh White! What do you want, what do you need?"
"Nothing thanks, as you're selling illegal pharmaceutical drugs, good-day to you sir"
I bought some gifts for friends and family (not street paracetamol) and we wandered through the brown streets to an old bar for an afternoon beer.
Bamenda lies in a natural basin surrounded by cliffs and mountains, there are two waterfalls visable from most parts of the city, it's quite a spectacular site. There is only one road into the metropolis and it's a steep one, the hill is at such a deathly gradient that they have built a run-off crash ramp at the bottom of it incase your brakes fail on the way down. Ingenious.
Someone who is of a cynical mindset could look at cities in Cameroon and come to the conclusion they are shabby, tired and dilapidated. Not me though, i like them. The buildings and huts that jut out of the land fill the space in a versatile and oblique way, it's like they are part of the earth, the cities are organic.
The roads are bloody terrible though....
Ines and i were sitting having a beer the other day when we witnessed a car fall into a hole!! People all scrambled round to push it out. Normality. Much of the damage on the roads has been the effect of the fuel strike where crazy boys decided to set alight to tires on the tarmac. It all adds up to a bumpy, perilous ride in a taxi.
Bamenda is also home to the 'Social Democrat Front' (SDF) who are the main opposing party tp Paul Biya's 'Cameroon Peoples Democratic Movement' (CPDM). Ebiebi is the leader of the SDF and we visited his craft shop today. The motto of the party is "Power to the people" and never have John Lennons' words been more meaningful. I bought an old drunk a beer the other night and he gave us his tale of woe about Biya's Cameroon. "That man in Yaounde has given us nothing, we work and work and we have nothing" These sentiments are widely held in places like Bamenda.
So i leave tomorrow back to Buea. I've had fun playing with Ines' sun Paul and her wee two year old cousin Ryan. They think i'm their own personal clown, everything i do is apparently hilarious to them. Ines' mother has been very hospitable and i've ate really well.
I'm going to say goodbye to the place this evening when Ines and i go find a restaurant that sells pizza. I'll see Bamenda by night.
We went on a wee tour today, we visited the old town and a giant market. Men clicked their fingers at me and blew me kisses to try and get my attention and business.
"Oh White! What do you want, what do you need?"
"Nothing thanks, as you're selling illegal pharmaceutical drugs, good-day to you sir"
I bought some gifts for friends and family (not street paracetamol) and we wandered through the brown streets to an old bar for an afternoon beer.
Bamenda lies in a natural basin surrounded by cliffs and mountains, there are two waterfalls visable from most parts of the city, it's quite a spectacular site. There is only one road into the metropolis and it's a steep one, the hill is at such a deathly gradient that they have built a run-off crash ramp at the bottom of it incase your brakes fail on the way down. Ingenious.
Someone who is of a cynical mindset could look at cities in Cameroon and come to the conclusion they are shabby, tired and dilapidated. Not me though, i like them. The buildings and huts that jut out of the land fill the space in a versatile and oblique way, it's like they are part of the earth, the cities are organic.
The roads are bloody terrible though....
Ines and i were sitting having a beer the other day when we witnessed a car fall into a hole!! People all scrambled round to push it out. Normality. Much of the damage on the roads has been the effect of the fuel strike where crazy boys decided to set alight to tires on the tarmac. It all adds up to a bumpy, perilous ride in a taxi.
Bamenda is also home to the 'Social Democrat Front' (SDF) who are the main opposing party tp Paul Biya's 'Cameroon Peoples Democratic Movement' (CPDM). Ebiebi is the leader of the SDF and we visited his craft shop today. The motto of the party is "Power to the people" and never have John Lennons' words been more meaningful. I bought an old drunk a beer the other night and he gave us his tale of woe about Biya's Cameroon. "That man in Yaounde has given us nothing, we work and work and we have nothing" These sentiments are widely held in places like Bamenda.
So i leave tomorrow back to Buea. I've had fun playing with Ines' sun Paul and her wee two year old cousin Ryan. They think i'm their own personal clown, everything i do is apparently hilarious to them. Ines' mother has been very hospitable and i've ate really well.
I'm going to say goodbye to the place this evening when Ines and i go find a restaurant that sells pizza. I'll see Bamenda by night.
Tuesday 17 June 2008
Back to the future
The mist on the mountain was thick, gray and heavy so we lit some candles. Alfred was ready to tell me my future and i was ready to hear it.
I sat in front of him in his traditional mud house. I was asked to sit perfectly straight and to not fold my arms or cross my legs. He brought out a small container holding corries, cola-nut shells and old beer bottle tops. He presented the container to me and asked that i put my hand over it. He then poured the contents and they scattered erratically on the mud floor. He ran his fingers over the pieces then looked me straight in the eye, it was incredibly intimidating but also fascinating at the same time. He looked back at the scattered assortment of flotsam on the floor and exuded an ominous grumbling.
He did not speak English so Ines translated from Pidgin, it was time to ask him some questions. I first of all asked what i was going to do when i left Cameroon. He said what i'm doing is very important here and when i go back i may have to leave again as someone will want me to work for them. I am also going to get a promotion and maybe work for the government.
I asked him will i ever get married? He gave me a wry smile and said 'why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to'. Will i have any kids? Back to the floor studying the chaos, a grumbling sound emitted then he stared at me and said 'yes, you will have a girl then a boy'. I asked him about my family, he said my sister Yolanda will go traveling and when she returns she will have a baby.
This was all pretty specific so i decided to inquire if i will ever get to see the world? A look, a grumble and a stare 'No' was his simple disappointing reply.
'What will happen to my friends?' He asked for a name and the first person i could think of was Phil. He said Phil will do well in life but he will have an accident, it will not be serious, but if he's not careful, it will happen.
As though this wasn't surreal enough a wee baby goat wandered into the room and stared at me, it then walked over to the candle on the floop and i had to stop it from burning its nose.
Now let me say that the universe is a pretty awesome place and all the secrets of why we are here are not yet defined, despite what the good books say. The world is magical and abundant with mystery. However, i don't believe we as humans have magic powers. I don't believe in miracles because they are illogical and have no place in a universe that has stringent laws of nature at its very core. So when a man looks at some shells and bottle tops and claims to see the myriad of possibilities and consequences that occur to shape the future, i'm afraid i become skeptical. This is something Ines and i debate quite frequently and no matter how many stories she has heard will convince me. It's all wish-thinking and we all can dream pretty big when we put our minds to it.
So i have seen an African witch doctor which is pretty cool, something to tell the grandkids sometime in the unwritten future.....
I sat in front of him in his traditional mud house. I was asked to sit perfectly straight and to not fold my arms or cross my legs. He brought out a small container holding corries, cola-nut shells and old beer bottle tops. He presented the container to me and asked that i put my hand over it. He then poured the contents and they scattered erratically on the mud floor. He ran his fingers over the pieces then looked me straight in the eye, it was incredibly intimidating but also fascinating at the same time. He looked back at the scattered assortment of flotsam on the floor and exuded an ominous grumbling.
He did not speak English so Ines translated from Pidgin, it was time to ask him some questions. I first of all asked what i was going to do when i left Cameroon. He said what i'm doing is very important here and when i go back i may have to leave again as someone will want me to work for them. I am also going to get a promotion and maybe work for the government.
I asked him will i ever get married? He gave me a wry smile and said 'why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to'. Will i have any kids? Back to the floor studying the chaos, a grumbling sound emitted then he stared at me and said 'yes, you will have a girl then a boy'. I asked him about my family, he said my sister Yolanda will go traveling and when she returns she will have a baby.
This was all pretty specific so i decided to inquire if i will ever get to see the world? A look, a grumble and a stare 'No' was his simple disappointing reply.
'What will happen to my friends?' He asked for a name and the first person i could think of was Phil. He said Phil will do well in life but he will have an accident, it will not be serious, but if he's not careful, it will happen.
As though this wasn't surreal enough a wee baby goat wandered into the room and stared at me, it then walked over to the candle on the floop and i had to stop it from burning its nose.
Now let me say that the universe is a pretty awesome place and all the secrets of why we are here are not yet defined, despite what the good books say. The world is magical and abundant with mystery. However, i don't believe we as humans have magic powers. I don't believe in miracles because they are illogical and have no place in a universe that has stringent laws of nature at its very core. So when a man looks at some shells and bottle tops and claims to see the myriad of possibilities and consequences that occur to shape the future, i'm afraid i become skeptical. This is something Ines and i debate quite frequently and no matter how many stories she has heard will convince me. It's all wish-thinking and we all can dream pretty big when we put our minds to it.
So i have seen an African witch doctor which is pretty cool, something to tell the grandkids sometime in the unwritten future.....
Monday 16 June 2008
Scotland in Cameroon
So i was awoken yesterday at the rude hour of 5.30A.M to get the bus to go see the witch doctor, Alfred. We took a packed wee bus into the highlands outside Bamenda to a small village named Babongu. We were stopped on the way by police looking for hand-outs. He seen me in the front seat and greeted me 'Bonjour Monsieur le blanc', funny guy, there's yer money pal, lets go.
We drove for about an hour through the most amazing landscape. There were high, jaggy volcanic mountains that seemed out of place amongst the vast, flat planes. I watched the sun climb in the sky as we climbed up picturesque hills and valleys. It reminded me of Scotland with the green mountains, the only things that were different were the trees and the climate.
Our old bus chugged up the bumpy road into Babongu and from there it would be a four hour hike into the mountains to a village called Oku - the residence of the witch doctor, Alfred.
As we got out the bus the old character that was the driver tried to charge 1500CFA per person despite the fact that Ines and her mum always pay 1300CFA, we eventually got him to play fair and drop the white man tax, which he did grudgingly.
Ines, her mother, her sister Emily and me started strolling through Babongu. They said the town was known for the wickedness of its inhabitants so i just smiled and waved at the faces consumed with fixed, fascinated stares at this Scottish white man who had decided to wander into town. It felt like everyone was staring at me, because they were. I have kind of gotten used to people staring at me in Africa, white men are a minority here and to see one is very rare unless you're in a big city. People are usually like 'Oh there's a white man', but here people were like 'HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS, LOOK THERE'S A BLOODY WHITE MAN!!!' It was a pretty strange feeling.
We began the hike up the mountain to Oku. It was a beautiful day and thanks to the altitude, not too hot. We climbed through the most awesome, picturesque scenery, it was the highlands of Scotland with mosquitoes. For a few moments i forgot myself and i was glad to be home. The ascent was pretty tough but we stopped regularly and i dipped my face in a stream from a waterfall that fell from high up above us. We ate delicious sardine sandwiches and some avocado to keep us going. We climbed on.
After about four hours we reached the tiny village of Oku high in the mountains of Cameroon. News quickly spread that there was a white man in town and people peered and peeped from windows and kids stopped and stared with fixed expressions of wonder as i passed. A wee baby started crying when i looked at her, i was probably the first white person she had ever seen and it was clearly a traumatic experience for her. It all kind of made me feel uneasy to tell you the truth, but we were in a secluded village in the heart of Africa, it's probably not an every day occurrance to see a white man cut into town.
We reached Alfred's traditional mud hut just before it started raining. It was made from a warm deep kind of Martian red earth and there was a steep thatched roof perched on top. He wasn't in when we arrived but he had left the door open, apparently he knew we were coming. it was so unbelievably peaceful and the only sounds around were the tree frogs. Then we heard a rustle in the distance as Alfred bounded through the bush. He seemed like an amiable chap with a funny, infectious laugh and the most piercing dark eyes that i have ever looked into. I asked if there was any beer up here and amazingly there was!! I bought everyone a beer and as i sat to drink i was amazed by humanity and there strong desire for the yeast beast that they would cart it up a bloody mountain. Good on them. It tasted lovely.
We relaxed and Ines and her family caught up with with Alfred. He only spoke Pidgin so i only understood a little. But they told me that two years ago he told Ines that she would bring a white man to his house. Here i was. When he was talking i'd look over and he was just staring at me in the most intense manner. I wondered if he was trying to read my mind.
I tried to have a sleep when food was being prepared and a first happened to me in Cameroon, i was cold!! yes my teeth were chattering and my lips were turning blue and it was amazing. It really was like Scotland in Cameroon, instead of Edinburgh we called the place Okuburgh.
After we ate it was time for Alfred to tell me the future. I asked some personal questions and i also asked about some of you guys. So if you're skeptical like me, please take it with a pinch of salt.
Tomorrow i see the future......
We drove for about an hour through the most amazing landscape. There were high, jaggy volcanic mountains that seemed out of place amongst the vast, flat planes. I watched the sun climb in the sky as we climbed up picturesque hills and valleys. It reminded me of Scotland with the green mountains, the only things that were different were the trees and the climate.
Our old bus chugged up the bumpy road into Babongu and from there it would be a four hour hike into the mountains to a village called Oku - the residence of the witch doctor, Alfred.
As we got out the bus the old character that was the driver tried to charge 1500CFA per person despite the fact that Ines and her mum always pay 1300CFA, we eventually got him to play fair and drop the white man tax, which he did grudgingly.
Ines, her mother, her sister Emily and me started strolling through Babongu. They said the town was known for the wickedness of its inhabitants so i just smiled and waved at the faces consumed with fixed, fascinated stares at this Scottish white man who had decided to wander into town. It felt like everyone was staring at me, because they were. I have kind of gotten used to people staring at me in Africa, white men are a minority here and to see one is very rare unless you're in a big city. People are usually like 'Oh there's a white man', but here people were like 'HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS, LOOK THERE'S A BLOODY WHITE MAN!!!' It was a pretty strange feeling.
We began the hike up the mountain to Oku. It was a beautiful day and thanks to the altitude, not too hot. We climbed through the most awesome, picturesque scenery, it was the highlands of Scotland with mosquitoes. For a few moments i forgot myself and i was glad to be home. The ascent was pretty tough but we stopped regularly and i dipped my face in a stream from a waterfall that fell from high up above us. We ate delicious sardine sandwiches and some avocado to keep us going. We climbed on.
After about four hours we reached the tiny village of Oku high in the mountains of Cameroon. News quickly spread that there was a white man in town and people peered and peeped from windows and kids stopped and stared with fixed expressions of wonder as i passed. A wee baby started crying when i looked at her, i was probably the first white person she had ever seen and it was clearly a traumatic experience for her. It all kind of made me feel uneasy to tell you the truth, but we were in a secluded village in the heart of Africa, it's probably not an every day occurrance to see a white man cut into town.
We reached Alfred's traditional mud hut just before it started raining. It was made from a warm deep kind of Martian red earth and there was a steep thatched roof perched on top. He wasn't in when we arrived but he had left the door open, apparently he knew we were coming. it was so unbelievably peaceful and the only sounds around were the tree frogs. Then we heard a rustle in the distance as Alfred bounded through the bush. He seemed like an amiable chap with a funny, infectious laugh and the most piercing dark eyes that i have ever looked into. I asked if there was any beer up here and amazingly there was!! I bought everyone a beer and as i sat to drink i was amazed by humanity and there strong desire for the yeast beast that they would cart it up a bloody mountain. Good on them. It tasted lovely.
We relaxed and Ines and her family caught up with with Alfred. He only spoke Pidgin so i only understood a little. But they told me that two years ago he told Ines that she would bring a white man to his house. Here i was. When he was talking i'd look over and he was just staring at me in the most intense manner. I wondered if he was trying to read my mind.
I tried to have a sleep when food was being prepared and a first happened to me in Cameroon, i was cold!! yes my teeth were chattering and my lips were turning blue and it was amazing. It really was like Scotland in Cameroon, instead of Edinburgh we called the place Okuburgh.
After we ate it was time for Alfred to tell me the future. I asked some personal questions and i also asked about some of you guys. So if you're skeptical like me, please take it with a pinch of salt.
Tomorrow i see the future......
Saturday 14 June 2008
Travelling man
These last few weeks in Cameroon are slipping away fast. I've been living on a bus to try and see as much of this beautiful country as possible.
I left Mamfe back to Buea on another epic voyage of eight hours, this was mainly due to the 4x4 breaking down and the bus having to pull it at a snails pace. They didn't have any towrope so what did we use?, a seatbelt. It kept becoming undone and in the dark of the dusty night, car horns and people shouting at us really didn't seem to help our progress. I'll say it again though, travelling in Cameroon is a real experience and is never boring.
It was sad to leave all the Americans behind as it was lots of fun having them around, people go on different paths in life and they were destined to do their work in Mamfe, and they certainly have a lot to get on with. Hopefully i will be going back there in a few weeks to help Kait with the school on wheels programme as i have some knowledge of how it works in Buea.
Last night i met Ines for a beer at Adidjan and we discussed going to Bamenda, i want to go before i head to Mamfe so she suggested we leave today. I'm now sitting in an internet cafe in Bamenda in the north-west province overlooking a giant mountain. I love being spontaneous.
We left at 10A.M this morning and we arrived at about 5P.M. It was a pretty cramped drive and i was scared i hadn't eaten enough for breakfast but once you are on the road and you stop at a checkpoint people come running with all kinds of delicious fruits perched on their heads. So i've been snacking quite healthily all the way here. On a side not i've developed a pretty serious watermelon addiction. The fruit is amazing here.
The road into Bamenda was truly spectacular. The city lies in a basin surrounded by sizeable mountains and when we drove down into it on roads that curved like the Monte Carlo grand prix, i was so transfixed i almost forgot to take pictures. The city seems cool, kind of like Yaounde without the tall buildings. We're going to go exploring on Monday as tomorrow i'm going to meet a man who has mastered the art of teleportation. Can't wait.
I left Mamfe back to Buea on another epic voyage of eight hours, this was mainly due to the 4x4 breaking down and the bus having to pull it at a snails pace. They didn't have any towrope so what did we use?, a seatbelt. It kept becoming undone and in the dark of the dusty night, car horns and people shouting at us really didn't seem to help our progress. I'll say it again though, travelling in Cameroon is a real experience and is never boring.
It was sad to leave all the Americans behind as it was lots of fun having them around, people go on different paths in life and they were destined to do their work in Mamfe, and they certainly have a lot to get on with. Hopefully i will be going back there in a few weeks to help Kait with the school on wheels programme as i have some knowledge of how it works in Buea.
Last night i met Ines for a beer at Adidjan and we discussed going to Bamenda, i want to go before i head to Mamfe so she suggested we leave today. I'm now sitting in an internet cafe in Bamenda in the north-west province overlooking a giant mountain. I love being spontaneous.
We left at 10A.M this morning and we arrived at about 5P.M. It was a pretty cramped drive and i was scared i hadn't eaten enough for breakfast but once you are on the road and you stop at a checkpoint people come running with all kinds of delicious fruits perched on their heads. So i've been snacking quite healthily all the way here. On a side not i've developed a pretty serious watermelon addiction. The fruit is amazing here.
The road into Bamenda was truly spectacular. The city lies in a basin surrounded by sizeable mountains and when we drove down into it on roads that curved like the Monte Carlo grand prix, i was so transfixed i almost forgot to take pictures. The city seems cool, kind of like Yaounde without the tall buildings. We're going to go exploring on Monday as tomorrow i'm going to meet a man who has mastered the art of teleportation. Can't wait.
Friday 13 June 2008
You will be afraid
So the sun rose on Mamfe on the 7th of June. We were rested and ready to see the mythical place which we had built up in our minds. When Chance arrived at Douala airport he got chatting to a guy about where he will be staying, when he told him Mamfe the mans ominous reply was 'You will be afraid'. The area is famous for witchcraft and many Cameroonians are weary of the place for that reason. Being a man of logic and reason, i don't believe in such superstitions. I just decided to keep my eyes peeled for giant holes in the road as they are very, very real.
Mr George, a UAC representative in Mamfe took us for a tour of the German bridges and other sites in the ex-German colony. The first bridge was a rather high delapadated suspension bridge spanning the Manu river (that's the second time i've crossed that river on a perilous bridge) I stood with a nervous grin on the high, shaky structure snapping away at the awesome scenary. We then went to a more solid reassuring bridge that crossed the same river and linked Cameroon to Nigeria. This was definately a German bridge as it spanned the river in an efficient linear concrete line. We went underneath it and witnessed the illegal oil trade between Cameroon and Nigeria. There were many shabby looking boats carrying all kinds of goods between the countries. Where i come from you might be a bit weary of customs officials frowning on such practices but not here, they all shouted 'Snap me' and we all documented the fascinating scene like a pack of papparazzi.
Mamfe had a lovely small town atmosphere, the people were friendly and always greeted us wherever we went. We were not afraid. The roads in the centre of town were paved unlike the bumpy dirt tracks we came in on. Strange, beautiful trees lined tidy, chaotic streets and the early German architecture stood out amongst a sea of brown and blue wooden shacks. Motorbikes tooted by us as we walked round taking it all in.
We walked to the market and all the girls bought cool, kitch dresses. Everybody was so welcoming to us and i probably took about 50 photos. Time for a beer.
The heritage inn where we were staying was run by the amiable Stella who cooked delicious meals for us and plied us with the freshest watermelons and pineapples. There was no power or water so we collected water from a little stream at the bottom of the garden and showered before bed.
Next day Sunday was a day of rest. We hung out in the hotel and Kait and I walked round the town. Loads of wee kids kept shouting 'white man, white man' I'm yet to hear them say white woman. It was a beautiful day. We took a tour of the UAC office and the Americans got briefed on what they will be doing during their stay.
There was chat about going to the club as they have a generator and we could have a boogie and shake our bums. Yes let's go clubbing in Mamfe. Splendid idea. The girls all put on their bargain gladrags that they bought yerterday at the market and we all headed into the inky-black darkness towards the club. We sat in the bar and comandeered half the place with our happy gang. Unfortunately the club was closed on Sundays so Hendrieke, Stella and I went to talk to the manager. He was a stange fat-tongued man who was not too understanding about our desire to dance. He wanted 150,000CFA to open the club, which was unrealistic. He said that would cover a barman, oil for the generatot and a DJ, i managed to barter him down to 120,000CFA and we get to keep the money from the door. No one was up for it and we reached a stalemate. Besides, we were happy to stay in the bar and create a makeshift dancefloor where we danced to Makossa all night long. There was a bit of hassle when we left as all these guys came up to the bus and started asking us to stay. I thought they were all desperate because all the white girls were leaving but i found out later that there was a conspiracy to rob us. I was too tipsy to be afraid.
The next morning, a little worse for wear, we were put to work. There was a rumour that we were going to go and plant flowers at the UAC sports complex, this couldn't have been further from the truth. We were actually shifting bricks up a hill to help build the sports complex. We formed an assembly line in the firey sun and begun the strenuous task. I have never experienced such wild, brutal heat and a few people bacame rapidly dehydrated and had to sit down. There was not enough water for us and their was a mad dash to get more. Hard labour and the stifling middday African sun do not go hand in hand. If i never have to carry another brick for the rest of my puff, i will be no less happy.
Later that day we all piled in the van and went to Orocks' friends house for a delicious meal. I ate like i'd never seen food before. It was great with the wild thunderstorm above us dining in candlelight.
We were supposed to leave tomorrow but the Mayor of Mamfe had seen us carting bricks and was inspired to invite us all to lunch at his house. We went the next day and their was a plentiful feast put on for us, it was all very tasty but we all avoided the porcupine soup. There were some formalities like speeches and backslapping but in all it was a fairly relaxed affair and a great one to end our time in Mamfe.
We spent our last night chatting and drinking beer at the hotel. It was a fun five days and for many reasons i would be sad to leave.
Mr George, a UAC representative in Mamfe took us for a tour of the German bridges and other sites in the ex-German colony. The first bridge was a rather high delapadated suspension bridge spanning the Manu river (that's the second time i've crossed that river on a perilous bridge) I stood with a nervous grin on the high, shaky structure snapping away at the awesome scenary. We then went to a more solid reassuring bridge that crossed the same river and linked Cameroon to Nigeria. This was definately a German bridge as it spanned the river in an efficient linear concrete line. We went underneath it and witnessed the illegal oil trade between Cameroon and Nigeria. There were many shabby looking boats carrying all kinds of goods between the countries. Where i come from you might be a bit weary of customs officials frowning on such practices but not here, they all shouted 'Snap me' and we all documented the fascinating scene like a pack of papparazzi.
Mamfe had a lovely small town atmosphere, the people were friendly and always greeted us wherever we went. We were not afraid. The roads in the centre of town were paved unlike the bumpy dirt tracks we came in on. Strange, beautiful trees lined tidy, chaotic streets and the early German architecture stood out amongst a sea of brown and blue wooden shacks. Motorbikes tooted by us as we walked round taking it all in.
We walked to the market and all the girls bought cool, kitch dresses. Everybody was so welcoming to us and i probably took about 50 photos. Time for a beer.
The heritage inn where we were staying was run by the amiable Stella who cooked delicious meals for us and plied us with the freshest watermelons and pineapples. There was no power or water so we collected water from a little stream at the bottom of the garden and showered before bed.
Next day Sunday was a day of rest. We hung out in the hotel and Kait and I walked round the town. Loads of wee kids kept shouting 'white man, white man' I'm yet to hear them say white woman. It was a beautiful day. We took a tour of the UAC office and the Americans got briefed on what they will be doing during their stay.
There was chat about going to the club as they have a generator and we could have a boogie and shake our bums. Yes let's go clubbing in Mamfe. Splendid idea. The girls all put on their bargain gladrags that they bought yerterday at the market and we all headed into the inky-black darkness towards the club. We sat in the bar and comandeered half the place with our happy gang. Unfortunately the club was closed on Sundays so Hendrieke, Stella and I went to talk to the manager. He was a stange fat-tongued man who was not too understanding about our desire to dance. He wanted 150,000CFA to open the club, which was unrealistic. He said that would cover a barman, oil for the generatot and a DJ, i managed to barter him down to 120,000CFA and we get to keep the money from the door. No one was up for it and we reached a stalemate. Besides, we were happy to stay in the bar and create a makeshift dancefloor where we danced to Makossa all night long. There was a bit of hassle when we left as all these guys came up to the bus and started asking us to stay. I thought they were all desperate because all the white girls were leaving but i found out later that there was a conspiracy to rob us. I was too tipsy to be afraid.
The next morning, a little worse for wear, we were put to work. There was a rumour that we were going to go and plant flowers at the UAC sports complex, this couldn't have been further from the truth. We were actually shifting bricks up a hill to help build the sports complex. We formed an assembly line in the firey sun and begun the strenuous task. I have never experienced such wild, brutal heat and a few people bacame rapidly dehydrated and had to sit down. There was not enough water for us and their was a mad dash to get more. Hard labour and the stifling middday African sun do not go hand in hand. If i never have to carry another brick for the rest of my puff, i will be no less happy.
Later that day we all piled in the van and went to Orocks' friends house for a delicious meal. I ate like i'd never seen food before. It was great with the wild thunderstorm above us dining in candlelight.
We were supposed to leave tomorrow but the Mayor of Mamfe had seen us carting bricks and was inspired to invite us all to lunch at his house. We went the next day and their was a plentiful feast put on for us, it was all very tasty but we all avoided the porcupine soup. There were some formalities like speeches and backslapping but in all it was a fairly relaxed affair and a great one to end our time in Mamfe.
We spent our last night chatting and drinking beer at the hotel. It was a fun five days and for many reasons i would be sad to leave.
Thursday 12 June 2008
Going to Mamfe
Hello!! How?
I have just returned from Mamfe in the south-west province. We all left on friday and i just got back to Buea yesterday night. All us volunteers went with the Americans who will be based there doing work for the peacework organisation.
It was quite an international gang that went on the trip, there were the UAC volunteers Sofie and Berit from Denmark, Hendrieke and Wiesje from Holland, Valerie from Canada and me fae Scotland. The peacework team were Kait, Courtney, Chance, James and Hunter from the U.S.A and Loan from Vietnam.
We crammed into one of the UAC buses and all our luggage and the donations that the Americans brought went ahead of us in the 4x4 with Mr Orock and Antoinne, his driver.
We set off in the baking heat of midday, it was a scorcher and i was glad to get a window seat. Kait and i had fun chatting and looking at the endless green scenary rolling out before our eyes. Cries of 'white man' echoed whenever we passed a child on the road. It was fun and i was enjoying myself. Then we started stopping, everywhere. Mr orock is the deputy mayor of Mamfe and i appreciate the fact that he had a lot of business to attend to before going, but it started to become tedious in the blast furnace of the afternoon sun. Luckily we were a happy enough gang and we managed to ward off going stir crazy.
We got to Kumba and stopped for lunch. I had a beer and a fish with no meat on it, like my tattoo. The 4x4 was overheating so it was taken to the garage. We played some frisbee whilst a gathering of curious onlookers watched us. It musn't be a common occurance to have a bus load of white people rock up and chuck around a disc.
With the car fixed we were back on the bumpy meandering road and the green trees weaving our way through the jungle. We thought we were making good progrees when the severity of the bumps took its toll on our old bus and we got a flat tyre. We were in the middle of nowhere, well that's a lie, we were in the jungle somewhere. Travelling in Cameroon is never boring, i promise you. Tyre fixed, we rolled into the inknown towards Mamfe, it was wicked and my ipod provided some amazing backround music to it all.
We crossed these rather perilous looking bridges and i realised after crossing the first one that it was stupid to look down into the void. It was pitch black and all we could see were the beams of light from the cars illuminating the earthy brown bumps. It was getting late and we were all flagging pretty hard. Surely we would get there soon was a general consensus. These hopes were dashed when we became stuck in very thick mud, i tried to open the door to get out and push but the goop was so deep we couldn't even open the door. It was mad but eventually we got out of it, much to the expert driving from sister John.
It was now 10P.M and i was beginning to wonder if Mamfe was a real place. I looked out the window into the dark and then i seen a sign saying 'Mamfe', i choked back tears and waited and dreamed of luxaries like beds and food and showers. We had been in the bus for 13 hours!!
We all stayed at the Heritage Inn but there were not enough rooms so we all shared. There was a blackout in the city but there was still water so i had a pitch dark, freezing shower, it was amazing. Tired and in dire need of a beer i walked up to the main hotel and fell in a rather deep hole, i skinned my knee and cursed like a sailor. I thought i now deserved a beer after that so i got one and relaxed.
Tomorrow Mamfe in the daytime when you can see all the holes.
I have just returned from Mamfe in the south-west province. We all left on friday and i just got back to Buea yesterday night. All us volunteers went with the Americans who will be based there doing work for the peacework organisation.
It was quite an international gang that went on the trip, there were the UAC volunteers Sofie and Berit from Denmark, Hendrieke and Wiesje from Holland, Valerie from Canada and me fae Scotland. The peacework team were Kait, Courtney, Chance, James and Hunter from the U.S.A and Loan from Vietnam.
We crammed into one of the UAC buses and all our luggage and the donations that the Americans brought went ahead of us in the 4x4 with Mr Orock and Antoinne, his driver.
We set off in the baking heat of midday, it was a scorcher and i was glad to get a window seat. Kait and i had fun chatting and looking at the endless green scenary rolling out before our eyes. Cries of 'white man' echoed whenever we passed a child on the road. It was fun and i was enjoying myself. Then we started stopping, everywhere. Mr orock is the deputy mayor of Mamfe and i appreciate the fact that he had a lot of business to attend to before going, but it started to become tedious in the blast furnace of the afternoon sun. Luckily we were a happy enough gang and we managed to ward off going stir crazy.
We got to Kumba and stopped for lunch. I had a beer and a fish with no meat on it, like my tattoo. The 4x4 was overheating so it was taken to the garage. We played some frisbee whilst a gathering of curious onlookers watched us. It musn't be a common occurance to have a bus load of white people rock up and chuck around a disc.
With the car fixed we were back on the bumpy meandering road and the green trees weaving our way through the jungle. We thought we were making good progrees when the severity of the bumps took its toll on our old bus and we got a flat tyre. We were in the middle of nowhere, well that's a lie, we were in the jungle somewhere. Travelling in Cameroon is never boring, i promise you. Tyre fixed, we rolled into the inknown towards Mamfe, it was wicked and my ipod provided some amazing backround music to it all.
We crossed these rather perilous looking bridges and i realised after crossing the first one that it was stupid to look down into the void. It was pitch black and all we could see were the beams of light from the cars illuminating the earthy brown bumps. It was getting late and we were all flagging pretty hard. Surely we would get there soon was a general consensus. These hopes were dashed when we became stuck in very thick mud, i tried to open the door to get out and push but the goop was so deep we couldn't even open the door. It was mad but eventually we got out of it, much to the expert driving from sister John.
It was now 10P.M and i was beginning to wonder if Mamfe was a real place. I looked out the window into the dark and then i seen a sign saying 'Mamfe', i choked back tears and waited and dreamed of luxaries like beds and food and showers. We had been in the bus for 13 hours!!
We all stayed at the Heritage Inn but there were not enough rooms so we all shared. There was a blackout in the city but there was still water so i had a pitch dark, freezing shower, it was amazing. Tired and in dire need of a beer i walked up to the main hotel and fell in a rather deep hole, i skinned my knee and cursed like a sailor. I thought i now deserved a beer after that so i got one and relaxed.
Tomorrow Mamfe in the daytime when you can see all the holes.
Wednesday 4 June 2008
Graduation with music
The day has finally arrived, it's graduation day and with it, the musical performance of the century.
We decorated the massive hall yesterday with flowers and balloons and the sparse, vacuous space looked pretty, like a concrete gargoyle with a dress on. The show was meant to start at 9A.M but with Africa time and the logistical nightmare of getting all the parents and their children seated the proceedings rolled to a tardy start at 10.30A.M.
The music class and i had a last minute backstage rehearsal and then we went on stage to the sizeable crowd of proud mothers and fathers and already bored kids. We first sang the Cameroonian National anthem and a song to welcome the parents to the ceremony. Thet went really well and there was no major catastrophes apart from my poor rendition of the anthem. Then we sang 'Cameroon Sun' and i danced about and strummed away maniacally on my unplugged guitar. There was one microphone and it was pushed under one wee girls face, with the others signing their wee hearts out behind her, it sounded pretty good, then the microphone broke but we perserviered and i think won over the audience with our charming performance. They danced off the stage singing a very funky traditional African song.
The gig over i could relax and enjoy the show. All the volunteers were sat in a place of honour to the right of the stage and we watced Stanley Kamga, the head teacher, do his best hosting the chaotic schedule. There was a hilarious game of musical chairs by the class 1's where DJ Dan, Orocks son, pumped out a really innapropriate 50 cent song and stopped it to the dejection of the last kid to fumble and fight to a chair to sit down. I'm sure it probably scarred them emotionally in some way, at least that's the way it looked as they walked off stage withe their head hung to a chorus of raptourous laughter.
The class 5's did a journalistic evaluation of UAC and what it had managed to achieve in the last year. And there were many speeches too. The noise of chatter in the hall was drowned out by a sudden vicious downpour which made all the balloons we'd tied to the windows fly about eractically. It really was organized chaos as water sprayed through the windows and encouraging kids to scream louder as balloons told us where the wind was. I just looked and laughed at it all.
Time was marching on and i was aware that we had not yet gotten onto the not insubstantial task of handing out the hundred prizes. Each class from nursery to the graduating class 5's were in the running for prestigious awards like 'Most improved student', 'Most tidy' and they were ironically given a washing bowl to be even more tidy presumably. 'Most punctual' and 'Best attendance'. Valerie and i presented the awards to the class 2's and my bosom swelled with pride as i seen the wee guys in their mortar boards and over-sizes cloaks come to collect them. I donated a few notebooks and my book 'Images of Scotland' , i don't know which lucky boy or girl won the book, but i'm sure they would take a book on Scotland anyday over an xbox 360or a bike.
So the curtains fell on the show at 2P.M and i was exhausted, i took loads of pictures of the occasion and it really was a brilliant ending to the term.
We decorated the massive hall yesterday with flowers and balloons and the sparse, vacuous space looked pretty, like a concrete gargoyle with a dress on. The show was meant to start at 9A.M but with Africa time and the logistical nightmare of getting all the parents and their children seated the proceedings rolled to a tardy start at 10.30A.M.
The music class and i had a last minute backstage rehearsal and then we went on stage to the sizeable crowd of proud mothers and fathers and already bored kids. We first sang the Cameroonian National anthem and a song to welcome the parents to the ceremony. Thet went really well and there was no major catastrophes apart from my poor rendition of the anthem. Then we sang 'Cameroon Sun' and i danced about and strummed away maniacally on my unplugged guitar. There was one microphone and it was pushed under one wee girls face, with the others signing their wee hearts out behind her, it sounded pretty good, then the microphone broke but we perserviered and i think won over the audience with our charming performance. They danced off the stage singing a very funky traditional African song.
The gig over i could relax and enjoy the show. All the volunteers were sat in a place of honour to the right of the stage and we watced Stanley Kamga, the head teacher, do his best hosting the chaotic schedule. There was a hilarious game of musical chairs by the class 1's where DJ Dan, Orocks son, pumped out a really innapropriate 50 cent song and stopped it to the dejection of the last kid to fumble and fight to a chair to sit down. I'm sure it probably scarred them emotionally in some way, at least that's the way it looked as they walked off stage withe their head hung to a chorus of raptourous laughter.
The class 5's did a journalistic evaluation of UAC and what it had managed to achieve in the last year. And there were many speeches too. The noise of chatter in the hall was drowned out by a sudden vicious downpour which made all the balloons we'd tied to the windows fly about eractically. It really was organized chaos as water sprayed through the windows and encouraging kids to scream louder as balloons told us where the wind was. I just looked and laughed at it all.
Time was marching on and i was aware that we had not yet gotten onto the not insubstantial task of handing out the hundred prizes. Each class from nursery to the graduating class 5's were in the running for prestigious awards like 'Most improved student', 'Most tidy' and they were ironically given a washing bowl to be even more tidy presumably. 'Most punctual' and 'Best attendance'. Valerie and i presented the awards to the class 2's and my bosom swelled with pride as i seen the wee guys in their mortar boards and over-sizes cloaks come to collect them. I donated a few notebooks and my book 'Images of Scotland' , i don't know which lucky boy or girl won the book, but i'm sure they would take a book on Scotland anyday over an xbox 360or a bike.
So the curtains fell on the show at 2P.M and i was exhausted, i took loads of pictures of the occasion and it really was a brilliant ending to the term.
Monday 2 June 2008
I've drank aloe vera!!
Over the past month or so since i recovered from the dastardly duo of malaria and typhoid i've been feeling a little bit rough. Without wanting to go into too much detail and in the interest of human decency, all i shall say is i've not been feeling 100%, and my toilet is my sworn enemy.
Dr Njemba, or the candy doctor as she's commonly known, has prescribed all kinds of drugs to eradicate my ailments. I've also modified my diet so to not include bread and beer (which is about 50% of my diet) but still i feel rough. So enough was enough and when Ines suggested that i drink aloe vera, i agreed out of sheer desperation. She took some of the leaves from the magic plant outside my house and washed them, cut them up and then let them steep in fresh water. She brought the limey-green concoction to me and i drank the bitter potion last night. It was hard not to gag as the bitter taste washed over the back of my throat, i necked it in one and waited for the magic plant to heal me. People swear by it hear as it is regarded as a cure for typhoid and it cleanses your blood of any toxins. But they believe in a lot of other magic cures from plants too. For instance there are many 'doctors' who believe they have the cure for HIV, i ask why they don't release the information to the wider world, a simple answer, they don't want to be killed for their knowledge. Fair enough.
With all that in mind i lay down and read. About two hours after taking it i started to burn up, like literally, i was so hot i stuck my head in a bucket of water!!! Then i began to feel nauseous. I phoned Ines and she told me it was normal. I felt better this morning but i didn't relish having to take more today. So hear is hoping that i get better cause i've tried everything else, what harm can drinking a plant do?
In other news......
The school term has ended and the children graduate on wednesday. Tests have been taken and the stage is set for their graduation onto the next year or in the case of the class 5's, secondary school. All the volunteers have been busy cutting out flowers and making massive, elaborate signs in order to decorate the hall where the ceremony will be held. And of course there shall be other entertainment from the music class and i. Should all be fun.
There are lots of new American volunteers who are here with the Peacework organisation, there are five in all and they're all going to Mamfe to help with the out-reach programmes that UAC conducts there. As there will be no school we will be joining them on their trip to Mamfe on thursday for a visit.
Splendid.
Dr Njemba, or the candy doctor as she's commonly known, has prescribed all kinds of drugs to eradicate my ailments. I've also modified my diet so to not include bread and beer (which is about 50% of my diet) but still i feel rough. So enough was enough and when Ines suggested that i drink aloe vera, i agreed out of sheer desperation. She took some of the leaves from the magic plant outside my house and washed them, cut them up and then let them steep in fresh water. She brought the limey-green concoction to me and i drank the bitter potion last night. It was hard not to gag as the bitter taste washed over the back of my throat, i necked it in one and waited for the magic plant to heal me. People swear by it hear as it is regarded as a cure for typhoid and it cleanses your blood of any toxins. But they believe in a lot of other magic cures from plants too. For instance there are many 'doctors' who believe they have the cure for HIV, i ask why they don't release the information to the wider world, a simple answer, they don't want to be killed for their knowledge. Fair enough.
With all that in mind i lay down and read. About two hours after taking it i started to burn up, like literally, i was so hot i stuck my head in a bucket of water!!! Then i began to feel nauseous. I phoned Ines and she told me it was normal. I felt better this morning but i didn't relish having to take more today. So hear is hoping that i get better cause i've tried everything else, what harm can drinking a plant do?
In other news......
The school term has ended and the children graduate on wednesday. Tests have been taken and the stage is set for their graduation onto the next year or in the case of the class 5's, secondary school. All the volunteers have been busy cutting out flowers and making massive, elaborate signs in order to decorate the hall where the ceremony will be held. And of course there shall be other entertainment from the music class and i. Should all be fun.
There are lots of new American volunteers who are here with the Peacework organisation, there are five in all and they're all going to Mamfe to help with the out-reach programmes that UAC conducts there. As there will be no school we will be joining them on their trip to Mamfe on thursday for a visit.
Splendid.
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