" and if you don't know, now you know - It was all a dream"

Hello World,

I’m back in Cameroon!

Totally kidding. I am sitting on my couch, poking at a fire, and indeed, half listening to doc-talk. Seems all my dreams have come true, right?

Well, I guess we should start from my final moments in Cameroon. On our final moments in Douala, I could not have imagined a more accurate drive to the airport. Between the plane letters, me having to pay an outrageous amount of money for my guitar, and subtle tears, we said goodbye to our dearest friends who made the trek with us, and jumped on the plane.

The travel home itself was fairly uneventful, apart from the stark culture shock of the lines and the level of disinfectant used in Istanbul airport. But I power stomped all the way to Starbucks before double fisting pizza and nearly died it made me feel so ill, but it was ok.  I jokingly thought to myself “Well, it seems I am already readjusting pretty well!” Then I got on the airplane to Toronto and I needed to get the stewardess’ attention…and my natural reaction was to make my ‘Cameroon kiss’ sound and the ‘come, come’ hand motion.  I felt pretty bad about that, but was able to feel normal again when they were asking for a doctor on the plane and naturally hid in my seat and made sure that no one was looking in my direction. A skill I have acquired over many years of never being around doctors you understand.

After hand delivered poutine, from Natalie at the Halifax airport, and far too little sleep, Dana, mama and I headed back to the ‘nish. Antigonish has been a home to me for many years now, so I was happy to be returning, especially this time with the influx of students that surrounded us. After many beautiful reunions, and almost before I even knew it, I had gotten into the swing of life back in Antigonish. It was a glorious, though majorly sleep deprived time. I reunited with some of the greatest people, even if it is the night before a chemistry exam (love you), and Katie even allowed me the great honour of being her one true love on December 3^rd. Thank God Paula’s mom was there to get her in.

But, in all seriousness, debrief in Antigonish was essential. I didn’t even realize how much so until now. The ability to be with people who understand, to learn how to handle all the things from ‘I cant remember if I eat this with my hands or not’ to ‘can we just stay home tonight because there are too many people out’. It was so nice to be able to talk to people and exchange stories with people that were interested, and were able to ask specific questions other than ‘How was Africa?’ where almost the only response I can give is ‘I don’t know man, Africa is a pretty big spot; but Cameroon is sweet. You should check it out. A lot of unreal moments there.’ After debrief, I spent a couple nights with Shila and her beautiful family. That helped to transition both of us into our post Coady lives. We then soaked in our last hope of physical contact for an undetermined amount of time, and I left Halifax.

So, then I got home. And it was over. I didn’t have the safety net of falling asleep on Blake, having whomever I had tricked into rubbing my back that day doing a masterful job, no mom’s…ugh, Nathan wasn’t around to make all the decisions, and there were no more wing night performances. Just the stark, bright, bland, towering isles of the grocery store looming over me. It took me 3 days to be able to go downstairs in my own home, and about the same amount of time for Shila and Neek to decide they were coming to St. John’s for New Years Eve. I won’t dwell on the transition back into Canadian life, but I will just say that my transition wasn’t easy. It sometimes still isn’t easy, and I have been home for 4 weeks now.

When I say this people say ‘well, why didn’t you feel culture shock in Antigonish?’ Well, I did, but I don’t think I really noticed it totally. Though I did have to ask the woman at Dooly’s a million questions our first time there. I think a big part of it was structure, the ease of everyday and knowing exactly what to expect. But I think the bigger aspect was being surrounded by Adam and the other interns- all the time. A place where our international house lounge was a place where you could try your Amharic, or Pidgin, or Xhosa, while eating with your hands, and wondering how toilet paper gets that soft.

In our return trip to Antigonish, it was established that before we left Canada our world was yellow. Everything we saw was yellow; sky, trees, life. We knew yellow, we were used to it. But we knew we were going somewhere new and had prepared for it. So, we arrived at our various placements at the end of May, and all of a sudden our world was blue. Everything we saw was blue; sky, trees, life. Yeah, it was a little weird sometimes, but we were ready for it and for me anyways, it was almost always new and exciting. Then I got used to it, and I didn’t remember how different blue was until Natalie came to visit. Then I got home, back to Canada where I was excited for my familiar yellow world. I stepped off the plane, and everything was green; sky, trees, life.  I notice things I didn’t before, and I see things a little differently. Though it took some getting used to, I like green. It is starting to become paler, but I am thoroughly hoping that my world stays green.

This seems sad, but I promise it isn’t. I bet all the boosters I have ever had on that fact. It is hauntingly beautiful. It is like I went through something that feels like a dream (though still a dream where I wake up laughing – thinking about the things that Dana and I did).  People always ask me if my time in Cameroon changed my life; and I think the answer is yes, but in ways that I don’t understand yet. All I know is that my world is green.

I hate to be that person that quotes Nelson Mandela, but I am going to anyway, so: “There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.”

So, how am I now? I am pretty good. I saw my family over Christmas, and Shila and Neek came for New Years and it was just what I needed because I had an entire year’s worth of change in one night, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them. Then I went to Calgary so I could reunite with my brothers, which is just what I needed to re-charge, and even got to spend some time with the beautiful and alluring Carmen. My hip is as sorted as it can get medically, so I will just keep creeping around Wedgewood Park pool and stretching it out and getting it healed myself as much as I can. Because my life is so difficult and busy (It isn’t. At all. Please, please, someone find me a job), I am going to Hawaii for a week with my mama and sister. They have a conference for the family business, and I will be surfing, tindering, and trying to find Dog the Bounty Hunter. When I get home, who knows. Probably lurk around Ontario for a bit to sort out some things for the family. Mostly I just need a job because I am starting to go stir crazy. To the point where I am redecorating my room right now. Seriously. Thank goodness I have a degree because my hand is certainly not steady enough to cut it as a painter.

So, to everyone who sent love while I was away, and almost even more so in my transition back into Canadian society, I will forever be indebted to you. Thank you, I genuinely am so very grateful.

In other news, here is a secret tumblr that Dana and I started when we were in Cameroon, but then the internet situation really went out the window so couldn’t update it anymore:

www.icantbelieveisurvived.tumblr.com

Hopefully I will remember password and upload the other photos I have saved soon.

Here is hoping I’ll never have my roommate in the back of a police car where I don’t speak the language and have to play it off like it is totally normal ever again.

So, here is a song to end our time together. It also gives you accurate representation as to how I want to dance every time I go out now:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4J0qfYeouL0

Until next time, my friends and cyber stalkers, until next time.

All my love,
Maura

Final Buzzer

I love Oprah, I’ll say it loud and proud. She is delightful, and remarkably entertaining. I am reading ‘Onward’ by Howard Schultz and there is a section in his book called ‘Things I know for sure’. In every O magazine Oprah writes a ‘What I know for sure’ article. I mean, it is hard to know anything for sure, certainty doesn’t really exist. How do you even know that you exist? Right?!

My thoughtful and intelligent roommate (#burlapsack2013, #mustachioandunclesam) also asked me what I had learned about myself, and I didn’t really have an answer. So I did some reflecting and came up with this list. So, as much as anyone can know anything for sure….

Things I know for sure after living in Cameroon for 6 months

1)      My thoughts can keep me entertained during long or unknown duration waits, but too much time alone with my thoughts can be disastrous.

2)      Regularly scheduled things that I can expect and rely on are essential when I don’t really have a schedule.

3)      There is a direct correlation with how much I like someone and how many exclamation points they use on facebook. “MAKING DINNER!!!!!!!!!!!!” Seriously, people?

4)      Also, facebook is great for the first 30 minutes when you are responding to messages and creeping your besties, but after that it is just a mass of food photos, instagram’d babies and/or puppies, and ‘give me attention’ status’.

5)      Even if I have nothing absolutely pressing to do, I still find myself making schedules on graph paper, tearing off the paper and keeping it in my pocket.

6)      I am the most satisfied, happy, and confident when I feel productive. Which is probably why I was the most addicted to extra-curricular activities.

7)      When someone nags or tries to micromanage me, all that happens is I never want to do anything for them ever again. 

8)      I fully appreciate how it is to have people around me that ‘get it’. An X alum talking about the mess that is Piper’s, camp friends to talk about staying above the sheets, or another Coady intern to talk about this whole experience with.

9)      Everyone deserves respect, but professional respect is earned. Just because you think you know something doesn't mean you are correct when you are telling me the sky is red.

10)   Critichie bites are disgusting and sore. But, there is almost nothing that a bit of hydrocortisone cream and/or some polysporin can’t fix. Though they may scar. FML.

11)   My opinion on development is still mixed, to say the least.

12)   It doesn’t feel like it is almost Christmas when it is 30 degrees and there are no apple cinnamon candles.

13)   Just to clarify, I think a lot of people had this vision of me living in a world vision commercial. I don’t live in a world vision commercial, I live in a city. I take taxis, go to night clubs, and eat at restaurants. I am yet to see a child with flies around their face in dirty clothes.

14)   I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear, I want you to tell me the truth.

15)   I am very happy to pay more, and get a higher quality product or service.  Happiness doesn’t have a price, but if buying an overpriced bottle of tabasco sauce makes you happy every time you use it, it is worth it.

And one more for good measure:

16)   Putting on trousers is really difficult when you have a hip injury.

There is a lot that I won’t get into detail on as I had a lot of personal growth here, which is cool.

So, how do I feel about going home? Mixed feelings I suppose.  I am thrilled to get back to the things that I once took for granted; like washing machines, hot showers, being in the same country as my loved ones. Don’t even get me started on luxuries like internet, my cellphone, being able to watch youtube videos and listen to new music, and, brace yourself, to have an oven in the house again. I am not discussing my food cravings I will finally be able to subside, but let’s just say that I spent an embarrassing about of time loading the Istanbul airport map to see if, and where, the Starbucks is (next to gate 219 past passport control in the international departures terminal, if you are wondering.). Nothing in the world would make me happier than to open a nice bottle of wine by the fire at Hogan’s Pond, poking at said fire as often as I want, wrapping myself in my snake camp quilt, and half listening to something I call doc-talk.

But.

Never again in my life will I have a time that is so laid back. My biggest challenge every day is showering in the glacier. I’ll miss the friends I have made, my non-schedule, the ease of life here, the same 20 songs that are played on repeat, boosters, the cost of living, and the food. I know when I get home I’ll crave beans and puff puffs, kanjo’s omelets, and the white bean place. You’ll probably find me wandering into Kenny’s (and after slaughtering an entire pizza), begging for some fried irish in broken pidgin.

As of late I have gotten very nostalgic. I recently had the option to head home earlier; and like a survivor challenge the offer to go home got better and better the longer I held out, but I didn’t want to leave. Though all good things must come to an end; so I’ll try not to be sad that it’s over, just happy that it happened. In the meantime, I’ll try to figure out how overweight my bag is, and I haven’t even been to the markets in Douala yet.

So, as this is my last day in Bamenda, it will also be my last post in Cameroon.

Thanks to everyone who followed along on my journey, and extra props to people who emailed or sent me facebook messages to check in. I’ll be back home the night of Saturday, Dec. 14^th, meanwhile I will be at debrief in Antigonish. Just in time for X-Ring. Coincidence? I think not.

Cameroon 2013, I can’t believe I survived.

All my love,
Maura

Stuck in an airport

Ever see someone ‘famous’ in an airport? Now when I say famous, I don’t mean you hanging out around the first class lounge at LAX. I just mean local musician, popular athlete, etc.; just someone you recognize but don’t know personally (or though facebook creeping mutual friends).

Anyone who has done a fair bit of flying I am sure has come across someone at an airport, wither it is Simple Plan in the O’Hare food court, or Jon Montgomary (Gold Metal Olympian) ahead of you in the Pearson security screening, these ‘famous’ people are always around. Always just famous enough for you to notice them, but obviously not famous enough to have security with them. Sometimes people ask for photos or autographs, but most people just stare and pretend they aren’t staring because they are too cool to act anything but totally normal.

For a significant amount of time now, I have felt like Kathy Griffith in an airport. Kathy Griffith is a comedian, who is famous in the way of ‘you’d know her to see her’. She had a show a little while ago called ‘My life on the D list’, mocking her non-celebrity, celebrity.  Kathy is famous to have almost everyone in the airport recognize her, some photos, some autographs, more than local celebrities, but significantly less than Macklemore in the economy class check in line.

You may be thinking to yourself ‘Someone get Maura home, she isn’t making sense anymore. She only wishes she was Kathy Griffith so she could fulfill her lifelong dream of being a natural ginger.’ Well, probably. But stay with me here, people.

Bamenda is a city, but the longer I am here, the longer I feel like I am in a small town. People always recognizing you from being around, familiar taxi drivers, running into friends around the city, you get the idea. Kind of like getting up to stretch your legs and seeing the same passengers work their way around their respective terminal as well. Once you’re in an airport, you can’t leave. Well, you can but you have to go out and then go back through security and it is a huge hassle. From Bamenda to the two major cities (Douala or Yaoundé) by bus is about 9 hours, even if you want a quick trip it is 7 hours to Limbe. A hassle to say the least, especially once you consider how bad the roads are for 2 hours until you get into the next region.  Therefore, I am trapped in the airport that is Bamenda. (Ironically, there is no airport in Bamenda because it was closed due to Bamenda’s isolation in relation to the rest of the country and therefore lack of use.)

I am going to say something shocking… I am white. I know I just took you by surprise, but that is something I have been hiding for a long time. I am a white girl of European decent. Considering the vast majority of the national population in Bamenda is not white, I tend to stand out like chalk on a fresh blackboard. Everyone notices me, some people ask for photos, more ask for my contact, some just want to touch my hair.  There aren’t a lot of expats in Bamenda, some Peace Corps volunteers once a month to get their paycheck, but in terms of expats who are living in the city of Bamenda full time I would say there are about 100. Of those 100, I would say 50 are here with the Baptist Mission, so they spend most of their time on their compounds. Seeing a rouge white girl roaming around trying to get her paws on either a booster or some fabric is a strange and unique site. Therefore, making me somewhat ‘famous’ because everyone sees me, most recognize me from a previous spotting, most too cool to do anything but there are a lot of double takes when I come around a corner. Therefore, I am a D-list celebrity.

Maura in Bamenda = Kathy Griffith in an airport

So I feel like I am trapped in an airport, and in three weeks from today I am travelling to Douala. It seems like I just got here and I have been here forever, all at the same time. Only 1.5 more two week cycles. I am not feeling nostalgic yet, but I think I will soon. I suppose I will get another booster and some fried irish while I still can.

All my love,
Maura

_O_ _L_ _ _ L K

The smell of fall. Can you describe it? Words that come to my mind are crisp, fresh, cold, and a little dry. Kind of sounds like I am describing an apple from the freezer where the core is frozen but the flesh hasn’t turned to ice yet, doesn’t it? You try to describe the smell of fall to someone who has never smelled it, it’s a challenge.

The only time I got sad before I left, was on a kitchen floor after indulging in a little late harvest. I wasn’t scared, I didn’t have anxiety; I was going to miss the smell of fall.

I read somewhere that scent has the closest links to memory. Who knows if that’s true or not, but I probably read it on the internet, and everything on the internet is absolutely 100% correct. (I Wikipedia’d that fact too.)

It has been 5 months now. Today, Halloween, is day 153 that I have been a resident of Bamenda, Cameroon. With the smell of fall tickling my memory (via trick or treating, you understand), it made me wonder ‘what else do I miss, and not even know it?’ Well, obviously I can’t answer that question, because I don’t know what I can’t remember to miss, but there are a lot of things that are important to me back in Canada that I just can’t remember. Confusing? Well, I can’t remember fast internet. I was astonished at the speed of the internet in Kribi and Ann had a pretty good chuckle at that considering how slow she found it. I can’t remember the taste of my mom’s partridge berry sauce. I can’t remember the sound of Hogan’s Pond slapping the wharf. I can’t remember the weight of my X-Ring, or my watch, two things I would never dare leave the house without. I can’t even remember the smell of my favourite perfume (and remember, scents are a big deal). The list goes on, but you get the idea.

It has only been 5 months and these thing were a staple in my everyday life and have been, realistically, for years. What am I going to miss about Cameroon? What am I going to not remember to miss about Cameroon? I can describe in an email, or in my (lately neglected) journal, the funny exchange I had or a moment which caused confusion. But, I can’t describe to you the glory that is a Kanjo omelet, and why precisely they have destroyed all Canadian omelets for me, for forever. I can’t journal the smell of the office, or email how my bed here feels. Not everything can be recorded, no matter how many pages of size 11 font I email or videos I record. These things will all only be in my life for 6 months total, how long will it take for me to forget it all? How long will it be until I find myself re-reading emails that I have written and not remembering any of the stories until prompted?

When I get home in December, and find myself at a kitchen table instead of the floor (because I will be 7.5 months older, therefore wiser and classier) what will I miss that will be indescribable to those who surround me?

Well, there is no way to really tell I guess. Luckily, I have kept track of as much as my attention span would allow me to dedicate to documenting something. So, I suppose I will grin and bear it, and hope that I am able to grasp everything that is indescribable as long as I possibly can.

So, Happy Halloween ghosts and gals; enjoy the smell of fall for me. May your heels, and your dignity survive the night. If not, may you drown your sorrows tomorrow in the on sale treats, while staring at a photo of Neil Patrick Harris and his family’s obviously heartwarming costumes.

All my love,
Maura

PS: For those who have not gotten an email from me in a while, I had a slight disagreement with my Hotmail, and then technology in general. Now that those have been sorted, we still do not have internet at work. I promise I still love you, and I am working my way through the list so you will hear from me soon!

Cravin' Gravy

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving! Today (and tomorrow), I intend to be floating in the ocean somewhere with mama clutching a booster like a lifeline this thanksgiving day.

Life has changed drastically since this time last year. Overall, all is well and I am so grateful to have had/be having, this opportunity.

So, here is a list of things that I am thankful for. Obviously, (at least hopefully it is obvious) I am thankful for my friends, family, health, and education. I am thankful that I feel love from countless directions and have people I can call no matter the time or day. I am thankful that I have never had to worry about where my next meal is coming from, if I will have a roof over my head, if I am physically safe from warfare, or if I can afford to go to the doctor.

Since my time in Cameroon, I am still incredibly thankful for these things, and even more so than previously. Though the general themes have of course remained the same, there are some slight additions.

For example, not only am I thankful I have friends to call, I am thankful that they answer strange phone numbers. I am also thankful that I am able to keep my phone credit up enough to exchange a quick “hello, I am alive. I love you, and I miss you” with loved ones.

So, here is a list of more specific things that I never thought that I would be thankful for here, or crossed my mind in general to be thankful for to be honest.

1)      My brief knowledge of sports. People here love to talk about sports. Mostly international and EPL football, both of which I have a pretty brief knowledge of. It makes it useful for making friends and filling awkward silences. (Though everyone is a Man U fan. The most unfortunate. Chelsea fans are picking up though since Eto’o has now joined the fleet, which is something I can support. Henry will always be my least favourite player, and France my least favourite team. No matter what French Cameroonian crosses my path. #bitterirish) It is normally a pretty good conversation topic, at least until I can think of something else to discuss.

2)      My ability to say almost anything with a straight face. Now, this is one of those moments where I think my converse wearing days with all the improv kids were absolutely worth it. But my ability to say to a wanna-be suitor that I wont give them my number/date them/marry them because “my heart is with someone else”, “God has another plan for me”, “my boyfriend Scott will beat [them] up if [they] try to court me”, or my personal favourite “I have joined/am joining, the church”. It has absolutely kept me out of a few awkward situations (even if it has created several along the way).

3)      The fact that I am not the only Coady intern here. Not because I don’t think I could cut it, or wouldn’t enjoy it. But, I tend to get myself into some hilarious situations, and it is nice to have someone to attest that they actually did happen. Besides, it is nice to have someone to dream about Kenny’s with. Also, that there are other Coady interns. I think once we all get back to the nish it ill be nice to have a group of people who, though have all had incredibly different experiences, many similar ones as well. Especially when it comes to the re-adjustment process.

4)      That I am a Newfoundlander. Now, I am a proud kid from the rock any day of the week; I love my province very, very much. There aren’t too many other Canadians here, but I have met a few others (excluding the girls I came with), all about age 40 and up. Other than Dana who is from Nova Scotia, the most east you get is Ottawa. People are pretty surprised that a kid from St. John’s is here in Cameroon. Sadly, it clearly isn’t due to the population of my home being the same as Hamilton, they were all quite obviously harbouring old stereotypes about Newfoundland (because the people from Ontario clearly forgot who was helping them out via equalization payments…) The questions I have been fielding include everything from “what about the cod fishery?” to “I heard the Saint John river is beautiful and great for boating! Did you swim in it as a child?” (it is beautiful, I worked on a part of that river… when I was working at a summer camp… In Saint John, New Brunswick) to, “Newfinlind? What are you doing here?”. I feel like I am able to set at least a couple of records straight, and hey, if one mainlander says to another mainlander, “I met a girl from Newfoundland! She wasn’t a fisherperson and she seemed moderately intelligent!” I’d be thrilled. **(not that there is anything wrong with being a fisherperson, my grandfather and some uncles rocked that career, but not every single inhabitant of Newfoundland and Labrador is a fisherperson. The same way that not every single person in Quebec owns a maple syrup farm. Also, not everyone from the mainland is ignorant, it is just an unfortunate representation I have come across.)

5)      Wind Willow. This I am not going to extend on; but I am so so thankful for such a beautiful addition to my life.

6)      That I am in Bamenda. Going into this experience, I didn’t know much about Cameroon. I knew briefly about their soccer team, and could place it on a map, but that’s pretty much it. I have seen just a couple of other places in Cameroon, but Bamenda certainly seems to be the best spot, without question. Though people speak their dialect, and pidgin, most people in the city do speak English (and French). The people are welcoming, helpful and kind; and this is a fantastic spot to send a few interns. At no point have I been genuinely concerned for my safety, and it certainly a nice change of pace looking at mountains.

From this, there are also countless other things that I will never take for granted again; but there is no need to get into that now.

So, friends, family, and followers; I wish you the happiest thanksgiving imaginable. And I hope you all think of me as you eat your meal. The things would do for a turkey dinner are endless, but trading my time here on Kribi beach certainly isn’t one of them.

All my love,
Maura

Snack Time

Food, man. Food.

It’s finally game time for this blog post, buckle in fans, it is going to be a long one. You’re going to get a list here, people.

People always seem to ask “whats your favourite food/what do you like to eat”. Are you kidding me? Take me to an all you can eat and I’ll kick your butt any day of the week. India Gate can just sense it when I am on my way there.

Food was literally my #1 fear coming into this. Now, I know this sounds silly, but I love food, and I am always concerned that someone around me is hungry and trying to be polite and not saying anything. Meaning even in my dorm room there was always lots of food to bring or to offer people.

Before I came here I was reading about the Nigerian militants that abducted a French family from the North of Cameroon, thinking “but what will I eat”.  Such a thing in my life.

Now, let’s talk about Cameroonian food.

I am into my 3^rd month now so I am starting to get a pretty good handle on the food here. There are some things that I love, but some I am not too hot on, let’s just be honest. Think I’m being picky? Probably, but when was the last time you ate at a Cameroonian restaurant? What about the last time you SAW a Cameroonian restaurant? Yeah, I thought so. Let me give you a brief breakdown of food, please excuse any spelling errors, I am spelling everything phonetically.

Top 20 Most Popular Cameroonian Food Items (in my life)!

1. Achoo – The traditional meal for the North West Region. Consists of pounding coco yams and bananas and a few other things into a thick paste. Then you make a bowl/ring on your plate of the paste and add the soup into the bowl/ring. The soup consists of a few spices and things, but the main ingredients are red palm oil and large chunks of cow. You then scoop this soup up with a finger full of the paste and eat it. The texture when properly combined is similar as to what the name would suggest.

2. Jama-jama/fried vegetables/ huckleberry – It is little plant leaves wilted and then fried with oil, tomato and onion. Usually served with boiled yam or plantain, or fou-fou.

3. Fou-Fou – Now there are 2 kinds of fou-fou, water fou-fou made with… something, coco yam maybe, and fou-fou corn, made with, you guessed it, corn. I don’t know how to describe this other than a lump. It is kindof like bread dough, it a little ball, but much, much denser and white. You pull off a lump and use it to help scoop up whatever you are eating it with. Not much of a taste, so no major complaints of my part.

4. Enkwong (Eh-kwon) – This our coworker showed us how to make and it was super delicious. It is usually served with crayfish, but we omitted that and I was a really big fan of the end result. You grate coco yams, on something like a cheese grater and it becomes a paste, like paper mache paste, and then you add some spices and roll the paste into little springroll-esque things in coco yam leaves. Once you have a pot full of little coco yam springrolls you cook them and add a pile of spices and palm oil and it is like spicy deliciousness. Big fan of this one, but it is very labour intensive to make.

5. Blackened/ Burned Corn – Just corn that you toss by a fire and keep turning it until it is all ‘cooked’ or black. Then you don’t bite into it, you pick the little kernels off and pop them in your mouth like jelly beans. It is actually really good, and really fun to pick the little kernels off. It is also really easy to share with little fingers or animals that may be wandering too, which is nice. This I ate a lot of this in the village, but you can buy it on the street side in the city, as well as plums cooked in the same way.

6. Jerome Rice – Basically rice just spiced with Maggi and a pile of veggies. Really good if fish hasn’t been added. (Author’s Note: unsure of the name, I have heard this alled a few different things, but this is what I think I heard the family in Santa saying)

7. Smashed Irish – Potatoes here are called ‘Irish potatoes’, so when you want a few more fries with your meal, you don’t ask for more fries, you ask for more fried Irish. Basically, this one is just mashed potatoes sans garlic and butter, plus black beans. Not bad. I also like the name because it makes me think of leprechaun stumbling through a clover field after a little too much enjoyment.

8. Spaghetti Omelets – Spaghetti cooked and then beaten with the eggs (and usually onion and tomato) then fried. So you’re eating an omelet with pasta in it. I know this sounds weird, but I promise when there are no breakfast sandwiches to be had, this thing really takes the edge off. It would probably be weird without Maggi (which can be found later in this post) but with it is just glorious. Omelets overall are very popular, my absolute go to.

9. Ndole – I don’t even know what this is exactly but I don’t like it. It is boiled peanuts, ground with leaves. It is fishy and served with fou-fou corn or boiled yams and I want nothing to do with it. Everyone except me really likes it, so it must be a texture thing for me. Clearly my favourite dish.

10. Ground Nut Soup – Nji’s mom’s Ground Nut soup changed my life. Actually. Ground Nut = Peanut. So it is a spicy peanut soup, but it isn’t a ‘soup’ persay. It is more like a sauce that you add to rice. It is so good, and if I come home only being able to make 1 Cameroonian dish, I want it to be this.

11. Pepper Soup – Several variations dependent on the meat, but the pepper soup is always the same (goat meat is popular). Kindof like a thinner spicy gravy. Really good if it isn’t too runny/oily.  Again, Nji’s mom makes the best version I have tried. (Author’s Note: Nji’s mom is a really really good cook, and sends food to the house often. Like a Cameroonian version of the East Indian neighbours I had growing up, always sending over the most delicious food that you could never replicate yourself properly, but enjoy eating very much)

12. Fried Plantains – If the plantains are cooked all the way through and nice and crispy, hook me with a vat. Just sliced plantains deep fried like French fries. And they make everything better.

13. Fish and Bubbalo – I would be doing my beloved roommate a dishonor if I did not mention fish and bubbalo. It is an entire fish (I don’t know the kind, when you ask the response is either “fresh” or “smoked”) cooked on a grid over coals. You are served an entire fish and you just pick the meat off with your fingers. With it comes bubbalo, which is basically soaked coco yams, pressed through cheesecloth, then the juice makes something that looks and tastes like a very large, 1/2” diameter Korean noodle cut into 1 1/2” segments.

14. Beans and Puff Puffs – There is a lady that makes them on the end of our street weekday evenings, so when I am too lazy to cook, we get takeout of beans and puff puffs. And 600 CFA later ($1.20 CDN), we have a meal big enough to feed 3 with leftovers. Beans, just black beans usually, cooked in some sort of delicious oily sauce. Puff Puffs are really light fluffy deep fried spheres of dough. Crispy on the outside, airy on the inside. They are about the size of a big timbit. You eat them with beans, and with pepper, but as of late I want to roll them in cinnamon sugar and pretend it is a timbit. So delicious. I love puff puffs, and at 25 CFA ($0.05 CDN) a pop it is a vice my stipend funds. If I really am what I eat, I would like to thank you, Canadian tax payer, for turning me into a puff puff.

15. Pig Ears – Ok, let’s be honest, this one isn’t popular, but they did try to serve us pig ears at a cry die we went to. They would very proud to be offering this to us so we couldn’t say no. We then regifted them to the people behind us and they were thrilled.

16. White Beans – Literally, just white beans cooked in the same oily deliciousness. Usually served with fried Irish, fried plantain, or rice. A chop shop favourite; a restaurant we go to has no name, or at least we don’t know the name, but they make really great white beans, so we affectionately call it the ‘white bean place’.

17. Chicken and Stew –Chicken normally means a quarter chicken, how it is cooked depends on where you go. Stew is basically a runny tomato paste with spice that you can put on rice. Quite good as a matter of fact if it has a good spice to tomato ratio.

18. Beer – Not food, but no meal is complete without a Castel, Export, or in my case, usually a Booster.

19. Smoked Fish – This really brings stuff to a whole new level. You can buy these creepy critters anywhere. They are sold at both food, and main market, and along the street. It is a black fish, like burned, it looks like charcoal. It smells like the bubble in the harbour popped and enveloped and exploded everything in the Atlantic with it. They are in a circle; they are cooked, and presented so the mouth of the fish is biting the tail of the fish. I don’t even know what the word self-cannibalism is, but these fish are certainly embracing it. I would also like to say that I have never seen anyone ever purchase or eat one of these, so I don’t know what is going on with them.

20. Koki – There are 2 kinds of koki, corn koki, which I am not a big fan off because the corn can’t be grinded as well so there are still little kernels (again, it’s a texture thing), and bean koki, made with beans, obviously. So what is koki? I don’t even fully know. It is mashed corn or bean, with a lot of oil and some spice wrapped in a banana leaf and boiled (I think).  It is good though. There is a lady by the office that makes bean koki, and so you can get a serving (MORE than enough for lunch) with a boiled plantain for 200CFA ($0.40 CDN).

You can make a bold and solid assumption that 2 ingredients in some amount, are in every single Cameroonian meal:

First, Palm Oil. Sometimes it is red if it is a more traditional dish, usually just regular bleached oil.

Second, and more delicious, Maggi. Maggi is (are? The cubes are singular, but you buy them in multiples) little cubes of heaven. It is a spice cube, kindof like adding a cube of stock to a meal for flavor. But they are quite small, and I can’t even describe the flavor because it is like nothing I have ever had before. Maggi is in breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Always. I even cook with it in the house now. Eggs? Maggi. Rice? Maggi. Vegetables? Maggi. So. Good. I am sending my mother home with a crate of it.

In other food news, Dana and I ended up at a gathering of mostly American Baptists last week and they had PIZZA. And it was AWESOME. We slaughtered our pieces in like 20 seconds flat and after only spoke about how beautiful that moment was. We also found a little bakery that sells pizza sometimes, which isn’t nearly as good as the stuff the American’s made but it really helped cut the Kenny’s cravings (which are starting to get really out of control). Also, apparently there is a really great monkey head restaurant in Yaoundé, we will see what happens when we go to pick my mom up at the airport, but I feel like Lynch will tell NTV terrible things about me if I don’t at least try it. Stay tuned for that one.

I have stopped torturing myself with food blogs, but still spend at least a little time everyday thinking about what I am going to eat when I get home. I don’t even want to speak of the food I am missing because it will bring too much pain to write about it. Luckily, my mother has stopped being specific about food that she has been eating so I don’t get sad thinking about it.

If my list has made you hungry or curious and a trip to Cameroon isn’t in your future, just go to Maryland. I am not joking. Maryland is little Cameroon; all the Cameroonians flock there. You can eat Achoo and drink Export. Seriously. I feel like it is the Cameroonian version of Fort Mac. Want a Cameroonian? Go to Maryland. Want a Newfoundlander? Go to Fort Mac. Same thing.

Well, this has been a lengthily blog post, and the omelet Kanjo made me is ready, so I will end this now.

Sending all my love to my best friend Shila LeBlanc today, the most beautiful birthday girl. Since you are now 23, we have to eat 23 timbits during debrief. Each. In one sitting. Game on. I’ll be the one weeping in your arms when we reunite. For her birthday, you should all go check out Shila’s blog, she is in Botswana and doing fantastic work! www.shilaandbotswana.blogspot.ca

All my love,
Maura

Still Alive

37 notifications. 37. Are you people kidding me? That is out of control. That was my welcome back into the city this week from facebook.

I did my homestay this past week. Monday – Saturday. Not a full week, but the basic idea. I lived in a village named “Santa”.  I wasn’t too hot on it going into it, mostly because I was (am) super comfortable here, and didn’t want to rock the boat and cause homesickness.

I wont get into major details of the week, but basically the family was the absolute most kind. My lumberjack and fire building skills were useful again at home, I think my ability to chop wood as well as I could was surprising for everyone. I learned how to plant beans, harvest potatoes and corn. I also tried my hand at assisting in a couple of traditional meals, and I ate a lot of omelets.

Im glad I did the homestay, I learned a fair bit, and met some really cool people. It made me happy for my life in Bamenda, and happy for my life in St. John’s.

My first day there I asked a 4 year old girl at the house what she liked to do, thinking to myself we could do it together for fun. If someone asked me when I was 4 what I liked to do, I probably would have said something like ‘playing legos’, ‘doing crafts with my mom’ or if I was feeling particularly honest ‘getting my sister in trouble’. Her response was “washing plates”. Now, I grant you when it comes to washing dishes plates are the easiest and the most satisfying thing to wash, but it was an interesting way to set the tone for the week. There were such differences in family, and child rearing techniques. That was my biggest difference in this experience compared to my Costa Rican experience. Other than that, there were a lot of similarities, which was comfortable for me to enter into.

I was a little sick for a couple days, to the point where I casually vomited in the corn field, but I blamed my malaria medication so all was well.

I am happy to be back in the city, though I am sure I will be visiting my Santa family soon.

In other news, here are two interesting things that happened while on my homestay:

1)      Boosters. For those of you who I have not yet informed, a booster is a .5L bottle of whiskey cola mix. It is consistently my drink of choice, and has been for the past 2 months or so. While in Santa, I discovered that there is more than one booster flavor! I know right, mind blowing. So, in addition to the whiskey cola mix, there is also pina colada, gin and tonic, and vodka grapefruit. Needless to say I have a new mission to try all of the boosters so I can boost my life in new and invigorating ways.

2)      I started to go off the deep end and got a store that was playing music to transfer all of their music onto my usb. I now have 200+ songs, 99% of which are African jamz. (the other 1% being lil wayne, and rihanna mostly)

This is just a quick post to let everyone know that I am alive, despite my disappearance this past week.

All my love,
Maura