Tuesday, May 29, 2012

I'm back... in Cameroon that is

It’s just your usual Sunday night in Cameroon; the thunderstorms which welcomed me home from California have been quite persistent.  “Yes, mother nature I understand that it is the wet season here in Cameroon.”  She is not pleased that I ventured off to California to enjoy the beautiful sunshine, and once again I am reminded of her fury.  Thunder and lightning have become my nighttime lullaby.  Wasn’t it just a few months ago I was praying for rain? Its funny how the things you want more than anything come back to bite you.  I will remember that next dry season.  I am learning (slowly) to enjoy the present.  Hard for someone who used to be a planner?
Anyways, I am slowly getting back to a routine here in Cameroon.  Although, the time change really took a number on my body.  I seem to be sore and aching for more sleep when I wake each morning, which leads to me sleeping into the mid-afternoon.  Yikes, I guess I need to be a little more forceful with myself.  The 30 hours of travel to get here were not pleasant - an upgrade to first class, is that so hard to ask for Air France… come on, throw a girl a bone. 
Tuesday, I found myself at the airport in Douala, overcome by humidity, when I received a pleasant call from a fellow volunteer surprising me at the airport.  I mean, I asked a few if they would be available but was unable to check my email to confirm with anyone.  This definitely was such an amazing surprise because Douala airport is not so forgiving.  Thanking my lucky stars, we made it out of the city with my bags in tack before dark!  Success… but this Cameroon, come on“Surely you have some crazy story about the unforgivable city” you may be asking and wait “why yes, I do”.  I bumped into yet another fellow volunteer in the airport who was also flying in and we were able to get into her private car which took us to location where my lifesaver and I hunted down another car to take up back to village life.   This private car is like finding a needle in a haystack.  Seriously, it really never happens and when it does, boy do you feel like you’ve just won the lottery.  Once we got to our desired location, we were swarmed by Cameroonians pestering us about everything and anything.  One gentleman approached us speaking in English that he was not from here and looking for a ride to our destination but was didn’t know the pricing.  He tried to persuade us to go with him to find a car, but I was caught off guard by another bystander yelling at us in French that he was a thief and was planning on robbing us.  We were immediately surrounded by angry men and women who were pushing the men away.Cameroonians willing to stand up for foreigners, it’s a pleasant and rare sight.  Also a nice welcome home gift, we left with our pride in tacked.It’s always an adventure, right?
The rest of the week seemed to fly by.  I was welcomed back with such warmth from my villagers who LOVED my gifts of photographs taken prior to my trip and printed in the states.  I have never seen happier faces and heard such fits of giggles.  They must of laughed for an hour.  I was reacquainted with my counterpart Justin who could disarm anyone with his kindness.  He truly is such a remarkable, fatherly figure in my life here.  Smiling from ear to ear, Justin accepted his gifts and our conversations flowed as if I hadn’t spent three weeks at home speaking only English.  The weekend came, and I was off to celebrate my home coming with my post mate.  We treated ourselves to the usual Marie Poulet, the one and really only restaurant in Nkongsamba.  We have become regulars.  Overcome once again by Mother Nature, we had to become resilient and find a car.  Motos were not going to cut it in the tropical storm we seemed to be caught in.  You could feel the uneasiness in our eyes, but thankfully a good Cameroonian Samaritan walked through the doors picking up his freshly slaughtered and deep fried chicken to go and offered us his services. 
Well, now  it’s been a whole week since I left California and I am sitting, musing on my laptop, whilst relaxing under my “oh so romantic” mosquito net thanking my lucky stars that I put it up a few weeks past because of the growing graveyard of creepy crawlies pleasantly spread above me like the night stars.   The mosquito net has been treated if you are asking yourself why there’s a graveyard.  I have come accustom to sharing my room with my little roommates, I give them their space and they give me mine, sometimes.  I always dislike waking up to a few new bites, wondering just how they managed to get under my nifty net tucking job the night before.  The mice, cockroaches and other crawlies don’t bother me much, but the eight legged spawns of Satan make me uneasy, especially the steroid sized ones that have taken to my bright blue walls. Being away for three weeks meant that they no longer had to share, and I was very unpleasantly welcomed home.   I don’t think 2 years in Africa will overcome my distain for spiders. 
Even with the humidity, creepy crawlies, the constant stares and the fact I am like 5000 miles away from my family, I cannot help my smile.  The adventure and constant, endless challenges of everyday life make me grateful for everything I have in life.  It was sure hard leaving the comforts of home in California and my brother’s beautiful baby girl who was born two days before my departure back to my Cameroonian life, but I am thankful I pushed through.  Once back in Cameroon, I became at ease again with my decision to do the Peace Corps and regain focus on my goals and projects here in village.  Now that my nice little vacation back to the states is over and I have already passed my 8 month mark in service, I am anxiously awaiting the next year and a half. 
C’est mon vie en Afrique.
As always, until next time; thank you for your constant support and love.  I love you all.

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