_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 

Life Thus Far...

Welcome friends, and cyber stalkers. I know you’re creeping me and not saying anything; but it’s ok, you can just buy me a drink the next time we run into each other. Besides, I'd love to catch up with you anyway.

Moving forward, no one knows what’s actually going on with me. So, here is a brief and fragmented summary of my life (my bad)….

So, I work at YOP (Youth Outreach Programme) at Mile One in Bamenda, Cameroon. I have a pretty sweet life here, get in between 8:30 and 9am most days, and leave late afternoon (time dependent on the amount of work). We work across from a junction (like a crossroads/culdasac with businesses in it. I feel like it is the Cameroonian version of a mini Churchill Square.) We spend some time there hanging out with friends, boosting our lives, and running basic errands. Our basic work week runs with us in the office eating omelets. I am currently undecided if I am never going to want to see another egg in my life, or if I am going to be craving them when I get home.

Weekends consist of Commercial Avenue for lunch and/or shopping, the food market for groceries, and hanging out with friends. I also insist on doing nothing on Sundays other than household chores and watching a movie. Sundays are a day of rest for a reason, people.

Garbage chickens still frighten me, as do newly discovered garbage dogs, and of course, rabid goats.

Handheld laundry is not an issue, I don’t mind it; though I am not entirely sure how clean my clothes are getting. I have worn though a shirt and a pair of socks already (whoops) so that leads me to believe that I am washing too aggressively, yet there always seems to be more dirt. (Dear Santa, for Christmas I would really love a new JCrew white vneck just like the one I have here that is now dead….)

People, it is not hot here, I live in the mountains. With the heat waves at home everyone is like “ohh 40*C, that must be nothing for you”. This week, the basic weather seems to be (thunderstorms, everyday) that the lowest low is 16, and the highest high is 27. But because it is raining there is no sun (usually) so it isn’t that warm! I am wearing a sweater right now and am quite chilly infact. Or maybe I am just used to it and will freeze to death when I get back to Canada in the winter.

No, I am not yet tanned; I don’t think I ever will be. But, I am also not yet sunburned, thanks to the rain.

I was able to download skype on my computer, which is such a miracle. After 2 months of trying, I am so so so thrilled about it. I am also starting to sync some of my music which is nice. I downloaded my entire Taylor Swift repertoire, which is certainly a major win in our sing-along life. It is slow and steady and sometimes I get none, but some days I am able to sync 3 or 4 songs, which is awesome.

I thought going into this, I thought that week’s 5-9 were going to be the hardest for me. That has since passed and I survived unscathed, which is sweet.  Hopefully I can keep riding this chill wave, since it is the end of week 10. 1/3^rd of the way through this journey, who woulda thunk it.

In other news, I finally got my guitar! It is a handmade guitar. Its name is Thunder, that’s because “Thunder” is engraved on it. Sweet eh? I think before I leave I am going to get my friends here to paint their names or pictures or whatever on it. What an awesome keepsake. How I am going to get it back to Canada is currently undetermined. There is a place that makes coffins next to my tailor’s house, so worst case sinerio I am sure they could build me a box of sorts….

This is Thunder.

Ah, speaking of my tailor, I had a sweet pair of pants made, or as they would say here ‘trousers’. Pants means underwear, so it makes for an awkward moment when you say to your friend “hey, I loved your little brother’s pants today!” even though all you wanted to do was to compliment the red skinny jeans he was wearing. They are based off my India pants, with a very bold pattern to say the least. I am a really big fan and am going to get more trousers like this made.

Mama booked her flights, which is so awesome. She is coming Oct. 5^th- 19^th, so that is something really cool to look forward too. I can’t wait to see her, and I know she is excited for an excuse to do some exploring (and of course see her darling daughter). She is going to bring me a box of Kraft Dinner, I am just going to publicly admit it right now.

My food cravings are out of control. It is to the point where I am just craving anything and everything (hence the Kraft Dinner). I am never hungry, there is plenty of food around, but I have a new found appreciation for the ‘Survivor Auctions’ where people pay like $200 for 5 chicken wings. (I spent the entire walk home yesterday thinking about my mom’s lemon squares. I was wondering how many I could eat over the duration of a game of Catan, without vomiting.) We made a schedule for the GAFC 2013 (Great Antigonish Food Crawl 2013) which is basically a 2 week challenge to see how much food we can physically eat in such a short period of time. The things I would do for a single slice of Kenny’s combo pizza right now and a glass of chocolate milk are absolutely unspeakable.

Blundstones are pretty much fireproof, but their soles are not. Just in case anyone was wondering.

I have upped my stalking game on that couple on youtube/tumblr. Things are getting out of control, but the first step is recognition. I also have a newfound appreciation for buzzfeed.

That is pretty much the main points in my life, as always feel free to fire of comments, concerns, or queries.

All my love,

Maura

Newest addition to our home.

The most confusing blog in the world...

I recognize that you all may be looking forward to my next fun list, sadly it won’t be this post. But I promise, I have another fun blog in the works. I also recognize that people still don’t know what I do every day, or what I have been eating, so I will do that too. Also, can you get plantains in St. John’s? Can someone check that for me please? Otherwise I am going to have a hard crash cutting fried plantains out of my diet cold turkey.

Some of the interns have been posting super deep thoughtful blogs, and that scene isn’t exactly my jam, so I decided to post the inner workings of my thoughts instead. You’re welcome, world. 10 points if anyone can follow along to the below rant.

I got an email a few days ago that has been boggling my mind; the email itself was great but this is what has caused my confusion: “….are you having an authentic Cameroonian experience?”

This question has been riddling me, so I have been reflecting and still have not come to an answer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated.

First of all, what is an ‘authentic’ experience? What would make one experience less authentic than another? From my understanding, authenticity is based on truth and honesty of an individual, place, or I suppose in this case, experience. But, everyone has a different truth, so how can my experience based on my truth be inauthentic?

Going into this ‘authentic’ was a word used a lot. But I (think I) have concluded that there is, in fact, no such thing as a broad ‘authentic’ experience.

It’s like this, I am on this Coady internship, living and working abroad. What if my version of getting an authentic cultural experience is doing the same things I would do at home, but here, so I can see the differences (even if those things were super ‘western’ and full of other expats)? What if in those situations I felt comfortable and myself, and therefore was being authentic with everyone I met in those situations (creating authentic relationships, etc.)? What if I did things that someone else deemed culturally authentic, but was so awkward and uncomfortable the whole time I was a big fake to everyone I met? What if then the lack of relationships and interactions slipped me into a DDD (deep dark depression) and I spent all my time in bed watching movies and on facebook? (That would be not an experience at all, that would be me being a lazy lump of a human, but you get the idea)

What if my life at home consists of me driving my own vehicle, drinking venti non- fat no whip extra hot chai tea lattes, going to a country club eating and drinking too much and just putting it on my tab, before getting back to my car and driving back to a house where I live by myself in a gated community? (it doesn’t, obviously, but I would love some starbucks. [clearly the food blog is in my future]). So I came to Cameroon, where the majority of the population doesn’t live like this, and did a similar version of the above activities, would that make my experience inauthentic? What if you remember that my life at home wasn’t the societal average either, would that make my life at home inauthentic, even though it was my truth? I really hope someone out there is following my rant of confusion, because I have been perplexed for days and (evidently) been having trouble expressing it.

Ok, so let’s say for argument sake that yes, I am having an authentic experience, just to make things easier. Let’s say I am following the social averages, I am fluent in pidgin (yeah right, I wish), can sing along to all the Nigerian pop songs, and do everything an ‘average’ Cameroonian my age does. What if I am lying to everyone? Pretend there is a huge part of my life that I don’t tell people because I am a big fake secret keeper, thus making ME inauthentic in all relationships, interactions, and activities. Would that dilute the entirety of my experience because the individual is being inauthentic, and therefore has a tainted truth? If your truth is tainted, then how do you recognize authenticity of your experience, if you’re not being authentic yourself?

I mean, if someone were to come to Canada and be like “I need an authentic Canadian experience” what would you do? Probably the classic “here are the rockies/lake louise, let’s skate on the canal, this is poutine, this is a beaver tail, let’s go to a hockey game, make sure you wear plaid, get a Tim’s double double, eat lobster on the east coast, go to Newfoundland and count moose from the highway (just kidding. Kind of.)” Yes, all of those things are all ‘Canadian’ and great touristy things to do (and let’s be honest here people, I would do terrible things for a big ol’ plate of poutine right now) but are they really ‘authentic’? I mean, I love plaid, and beaver tails but I don’t indulge in them every day; you can’t even get beaver tails in St. John’s. I don’t think anyone eats poutine, beaver tails, and sucks back a hit of Timmy’s every day, because they would have a heart attack and die. Because that is not my truth, and I am Canadian, therefore would that make it an inauthentic experience for someone else? But if it was someone else’s truth, who was Canadian, it would be authentic for me? (I’m not even going to get into regional differences of ‘authentic’ in culture. I will point out, for example, that people don’t get screeched in in Manitoba, and you can’t skate on the canal in New Brunswick, so it is a major thing. Does national authenticity exist? Where are the borders drawn? Regions, provinces, cities, neighbourhoods?)

BOOM. MIND. BLOWN.

I don’t know if any of this can be understood by someone that does not live in the sick and twisted world of my mind. Sorry if all I did was confuse you and have you wonder if I have gone off the deep end (which I might have).

So, my experience, for me, is authentic-ish. I won’t get into it fully, but I will say that I am enjoying it. I basically live in King William, but have started making a really good group of local friends who live mostly around the Tamarac area. I am always the worst dancer at every party, but that is the same as home anyway. I am getting pretty good at understanding basic pidgin, and even am getting better at bartering (though it still isn’t good). I am also fascinated as to how much 50 cent I retained since grade 6/7, because I could rap along pretty well to a few songs the other night.

After a blog post with no questions (lawlin’ at sarcasm) I will leave you with this question to ponder, “if love is the answer, then what is the question?”

All my love,
(a very confused) Maura

PS: Boost your life, see you at Paradise. #WWAT

Top 25 Things I Have Learned in Cameroon (so far) / Happy Canada Day!

Happy Canada Day! I hope everyone enjoys the fireworks, BBQs, and marshmallows!

Well kids, it’s been a month. A month in regards as to how I would normally measure my time would be, half way through my time at Glenburn, about to get into exams of some sort at X, or about how long it would be since I saw my friends when my life was practically taken over this past year.

For all you other Coady interns, you know that this marks that we are 1/6 of the way through our placement (shout out to all you other honeymooners out there [other than that 24 hour period when I thought it was Saturday but it was really Friday and I am pretty sure I was a realllll treat to deal with all day #realliferagestage]). This marking means that our first impressions piece is due.

For the entertainment of my loved ones, here is a brief summary of stuff I have learned so far. This is not my first impressions piece, but an addendum of sorts.

So, ladies and gentlemen, in no particular order I present you with the ‘top 25 things that I have learned in Cameroon (so far)’

1)      Oranges are green. It still throws me off every single time

2)      Let me tell you about Toyota Corolla’s. Do you remember that commercial that Toyota put out a few years ago that was some outlandish number like 90% of Toyota Corollas sold since 1990 (or something) were still on the road? FACT. They weren’t lying. They are all here, all the cabs and most of the cars are like 1990ish Toyota Corollas. Please also note that in that commercial, they say ‘on the road’ and say nothing of the safety standards of the cars. Don’t worry, I do a safety check before I get into cars here: windshield, steering wheel, tires. If all are present, I am good to go.

3)      Nothing brings the wedding film crew faster than an obvious foreigner trying to dance with locals. (and everyone knows that my dance moves are rough on the best of days.)

4)      You can do a wedding crash crawl, and be told that “you are welcome” at every single one.

5)      I have learned that YOLO is a similar theme across all cultures, though it may be named differently (#LILAC).

6)      Sarcasm. It isn’t a thing here, and when you are sarcastic people are confused and concerned.

7)      You can put anything in an omelette and it will be delicious

8)      Avocados are called pears

9)      The same way that someone from Cameroon is a Cameroonian, if you tell someone you are from Newfoundland, they may ask if you are “Newly-found?” Humorous, though a legitimate question upon reflection.

10)   Along the same lines, when I speak with my Newfoundland accent, it is a form of pidgin.

11)   Always wash your hands after handling money, always.

12)   Being full/not thirsty isn’t allowed. If someone offers you food or drink you take it smile and say thank you, even if you are so full you think death is coming quickly. If you ask for a small amount, your plate will be double the size of everyone else’s.

13)   If you didn’t have to call the welder, your fridge works, and your body isn’t disagreeing with the food, you have nothing to complain about because it isn’t a bad day.

14)   Never wear clean clothes/white to the food market. Everything is fresh from the ground, so it is still covered in dirt, and people will want you to evaluate the product before purchasing. Boots are also essential in the muddy food market.

15)   The coin knows the truth. Always. No matter what. If the coin didn’t predict the future accurately, you didn’t ask the question correctly.

16)   The music here is from junior high/high school. It isn’t uncommon that I am out and start singing along to music and can’t remember the name of the song, or the artist, but I do know all the words and know that I love it. It is like I am living in a beautiful 24/7 high school dance party and it is fantastic.

17)   There is no musical composition on the planet better than “chop my money” by P- Squared fting Akon.

18)   It is hard to tell the difference between a mango and a papaya in the rain when you’re tired and distracted ok?! Mangos are still delicious.

19)   When someone says ‘meat’, they mean beef. Any other kinds of animal or fish protein are called by name.

20)   If someone would like to develop a fear of animals (re: rabies) they should come here, between the wild dogs on the walk to work, garbage chickens and being attacked by rabid goats in the night, my fear of animals is rapidly developing.

21)   When you’re meeting/run into other expats, it is impossible to lose each other, no matter how large the crowd.

22)   The clothes here, I want all of them. I need to find a tailor and just get so many matching outfits made. I want to get a matching pantsuit in shiny turquoise so badly.

23)   There is a lot my roommates wouldn’t do for 100 CFA.

24)   My favorite spice is soya sauce. I recognize it is not actually a spice.

25)   Nothing tests friendship like trying to keep in contact with people from home when communication isn’t always the most reliable. 1000 points to everyone that has kept me up to date on important news articles (ex: Paula Deen, North ‘Nori’ West, and Hal Johnson and Joanne McCloud being on the Amazing Race Canada). Bonus points to David Feehan for hookin’ me with a USB of treats for Ann to bring when she comes.

This list is my truth, but it is also interesting to reflect on how much my life has changed since this time last year. Last Canada Day, I was at Montieth’s sampling local beer before going across the street to the Hanmer Hot Springs on the south island of New Zealand. This Canada day, I am working at an NGO in Bamenda, Cameroon, evaluating budgets, facilitating a session at the Women’s Empowerment Center about self-esteem and body image, and living and working with two girls who I had no idea existed until about 9 weeks ago. Who called this, not me that’s for sure, but it is unreal where a coin flip can lead you.

So, this Canada Day (and day of Beaumont-Hamel Remembrance for all you other Newfoundlanders, 1917 was a rough one for us, google it) I send all my love to you. I send my love particularly to the Coady interns who are not in their Canadian homes on this national holiday, though I’d bet you a dollar you’re all in a new home.

All my love,
Maura