13 May 2013
About two years ago, I received that glorious, long-awaited package containing my invitation to join the Peace Corps. The memory is still vivid: I was sitting on the couch next to my Mom and our dog, and with hands shaking, I ripped open the envelope that I was convinced would hold the answers to all of my questions (it didn't.) My nerves were shooting through the roof as I searched the documents endlessly trying to figure out where I was being sent. I overlooked the big, bolded word CAMEROON on the first page, so thanks, Mama dearest, for pointing that out to me and putting all that anxiety to an end. Knowing very little about the country, the job I was being sent to do, or whether I was physically capable to handle all that this post would require of me, I unhesitatingly sent back an email that evening to confirm my acceptance as a member of the first ever class of Youth Development Coordinators in Cameroon.
Throughout the summer, I completed the barrage of things that Peace Corps asked us to do: personal statements, resumes, the Yellow Fever vaccine, and what-have-you. I read volunteer blogs, searched YouTube for videos that volunteers posted about their life in Cameroon, went shopping for all those materials that volunteers assured us were "crucial" for survival (they weren't,) and tied up my loose ends in America, confidently knowing that I'd be able to pick up my life exactly where I'd left it.
In retrospect, that was naive.
I remember hearing before I left that I was going to change more personally than I'd be able to change my community, but it never occured to me how much my "old bubble" would change while I was gone: deaths, terrorist attacks, engagements, graduations. When I eventually return, I won't be returning to the same America that I left. Likewise, I won't be returned to my family or friends in the same condition as I left. The longer I'm here, the more thankful I am to have such a strong base of support on all sides of the planet to support me through all of the dramas and successes that comprise a Peace Corps service. Packages, emails, letters, phone calls, monetary donations to projects: people have reached out consistently when I've needed it the most. There are no words for how appreciative I am, sappy as that might be.
There are also no words for my excitement at finding out our fish farming project has been officially selected for funding! After months of struggling and re-writing because of deadlines and agricultural seasons, my post-mate finally called me with the happy news. Mike and Melissa, I'm so proud of us!!!!!! Together, we're going to go share the good news to the association that we work with. The word "overjoyed" doesn't even come close to describing my emotions. What's a girl do to celebrate? Eat boiled green beans, onions, and green pepper while writing a blog post by candle-light. Yep, I'm celebrating pretty hard. I might even eat that leftover half of a pineapple from earlier....
Anyhow, the project will be hosted by the Amicale des Handicapes de la Kadey a Batouri, a group that works to elevate the status of handicapped/HIV+/orphaned/at-risk youth and adults through access to education, vocational training, and health-care. The group is lead by a woman named Pauline, who is truly one of the most dynamic and persistent people I've ever met; while she can be a high-stress personality, I've become a more patient, aware person because of knowing her. My work with Pauline started out as just teaching the kids at a weekly youth group, but our work together grown ever since.
Starting July, work to create our 3 fish ponds for Tilapia, Kanga, Silures, and Clariases will begin, and the work will be hefty. We hope to have all of the construction completed and the fish installed by November when Mike and I leave. Likewise, we'll be training youth on reproductive and sexual health topics in order to help them avoid contracting HIV, other sexually transmitted infections, and early pregnancy. Both youth and adults will be trained on fish farming (or, pisciculture, if you want the technical word) as an opportunity to gain a vocational skill.
There are a lot of things that have happened during my service that I'm proud of, and I've never regretted coming for a second. But, if this project actually succeeds, then I will be able to leave Batouri knowing that it's a better place than when I first arrived and not just superficially: whole families will be able to better nourish their children, more youth will have access to the hospital-care that they need, more preventative medications will be available to these families, and more children will be able to be enrolled in schools. The potential implications of this are far-reaching. Amazing, right?
I'll be sure to post more details soon as they become available. In the mean-time, I hope all of you go out and celebrate Batouri cluster's success with a large cup of ice cream (or large bowl of soup, if you're being health-conscious.)
Take care, everyone!
PS. Guess who found their second-ever Green Mamba in their house last week? Apparently the Cameroonian solution is to pour used diesel around the house and around the trees where they're frequently found. My friend gave me some diesel this morning, so keep your fingers crossed that this works for me!
