The Rama-Diary

Day 1:

After a bout of food poisoning and a false-start of fasting (one ethnic group, the Bamouns, apparently frequently starts fasting a day before everyone else,) Ramadan finally started for real today. It's 3pm, and to distract myself from the fact that I still have a few hours to go before I can eat dinner and guzzle down some water, I've decided to start writing my Ramadan Diary. I'm going to fast for this whole first week, incha'allah, and add at least 15 minutes onto my fast each morning until I hit the point of starting my fast at 5am like the rest of Batouri. I've decided that this is a week of no morning coffee, no work-outs, and probably also a lot of moto-taxis--I want to avoid anything that's going to dehydrate me any more than necessary.

Today, I started my fast at 7:30am...a cheater's start, but I don't want to start too hard at the beginning and end my week in the hospital with dehydration. After two eggs and a full 1.5L of water at 7am, my fast was on. We were lucky that it poured rain this morning so that the heat and sun weren't too overwhelming. Still, I am exhausted--food poisoning just before Ramadan was definitely not ideal, and I can already tell that I'm going to be doing some serious napping all week long. I now understand why last year the pace of work during Ramadan was SO SLOW and why every shop-keeper seemed to be constantly asleep: fasting is fatiguing. Tonight, though, this exhaustion is going to be sent away in style, as my post-mates and I are breaking the fast with our friend, Ali, at a restaurant in town (Melissa is also fasting for the week with me.)

So, how are people responding to the bizarre news that the two American girls are fasting? Reactions have been one of two extremes--shock and excitement or confusion. Luckily, the Muslims that are fasting all think it's cool that we want to share the experience and plenty of our Muslim friends are inviting us over to break the fast at the end of the day. The Christians, however, are all confused. I've now committed the most heinous crime in Cameroon about 5 different times today: I've turned down both food and drink. The response of "I'm fasting for this week of Ramadan" is doing nothing but furthering the confusion. I'm hoping that'll get easier as the week moves along.

Day 2:
Well, there's two days down already. I added another 30 minutes onto the fast today, and I'm a little shocked: today was significantly easier than the day before. Thank God. The fatigue, however, is going to be a killer. Town is already slowing down dramatically as all of the Muslims (and us weirdos who're doing Ramadan for the fun of it) adjust into energy-conservation mode. Pretty sure by the last day, it may be a miracle if I peel myself out of my bed.

Today, I broke the fast in a more "traditional" fashion, ie: bouillie and beignets. Bouillie is a traditional breakfast food throughout Cameroon--it's a thick, white drink made of flour, water, and flavoring (sugar, cinnamin, rice, lemon, vanilla, etc.) Holy moly, I love me some bouillie. And beignets dipped in bouillie? Wow.

I broke the fast with my friend Muhammad at his house, and his wife made the most fabulous spread. As Melissa and I slurped down the food in fast-forward, the family prayed as the littlest one called out the response of "allahu akbar" ("God is Great") and the father called out the prayer. There's a joke around here that it's a great thing that prayer Islam-style is so involved (standing, bending, prostrating, repeat x5+) because otherwise, nobody would be doing any activity during Ramadan and everyone would be gaining massive amounts of weight. And, it's probably true: that much food eaten at rapid speed in such a short period of time is creating a gigantic rock in my stomach. Bloat, bloat, bloat, bloat. Luckily, this week, there's all the time in the world to sit, digest, and reflect.

Day 3:
If this week is indicative of anything, it's that I might just have a future in competitive eating. Always good to have a back-up life plan, right?

Ignoring the fatigue, the week is getting easier and easier--I never actually thought that I'd be able to make it through the full week, but I've already shaved a full hour off my start time (clearly the competitive spirit remains alive and well.) We've been lucky that it's stayed cool and hasn't been too sunny this week; apparently when Ramadan falls during dry season, a couple of people pass away per year from dehydration. All thing's said, for me, so far it's been a much needed week of re-centering and self-focus. With only four months remaining, I'll take whatever moments I can get to try and process this life here.

Tonight, Mike, Melissa, and I went out for chicken to celebrate the fact that our fish-farming project has begun and is moving along quickly! Since regaining our original technician and re-working our budget a bit at the beginning of the week, we've finally got a plan that we all feel comfortable in. The land has already been cleared, and we're currently in the process of digging the ponds. ("we're" in this case excluding myself, although as soon as Ramadan's over I plan to head over and start actually lending a hand in the work.) But, more on this project in a later blog. Anyhow, as soon as dawn hit today, I ripped open a yogurt, downed a banana, and drowned myself in water...followed by a Coke, chicken, rice, and pineapple. Competitive food eating: I'm winning at it.

Day 4:
The pronounciation of the French word for sleepiness is exactly the same as the Fulfulde word for the fast. The pronounciation for the French words to fast and to annoy/irritate are also the same. Coincidences? Definitely not.

The crying baby in the neighbor's side of the duplex. The fact that the new family of the neighbor STILL haven't bothered to introduce themselves after moving in last month. The fact that the neighbors start blasting their TV around 6:15 every morning. The rain that blocked us from going out and cooking on the rocks to break the fast. The fridge light that won't turn off. The sink that won't stop dripping. Having to cook without taste testing along the way. It seems like there's nothing that isn't bothering me today, but in a way that shows me that I may have too completely adopted the mentality of "ca va aller."

The post-mates, myself, and our friend Zack were supposed to go out to the rocks tonight and break the fast at sunset over a gigantic vat of chili, but, alas, there was rain. Instead, we cooked and ate at my house instead after a long and distacting game of Canasta. Since Zack's family is currently out of town, for the time being, we're all the family each other has, which is weirdly comforting. Between the gigantic bowl of American chili, a card game I grew up on, and the family I've pieced together for myself here,the day ended on a really nice note. As tiring and frustrating as this week has been, I'm glad that I decided to do it: how better to learn to appreciate the hand I've been dealt here?

Days 5 and 6:
Sundays are always slow here in Batouri, so I've skipped day 5 of the Rama-Diary. Nothing terribly interesting happened, and no fabulous new revelations have passed. I do have a significantly cleaner yard to show for it, though, and a whole other pineapple to work through that I bought at the market, so the day was far from a waste.

Here, on the sixth day, I've added a total of two hours onto my fast since the start of the week. To the great shock of anyone who's ever had the pleasure of having to deal with me in the morning, I got up and was functional(ish) without coffee at 5am. Even I am shocked by that one. It seems that I've lost a whole piece of my identity in this country: that of being an incurable, raging anti-morning person. I'm willing to admit that that's probably a positive change.

Ramadan's gotten easier and easier, and the word has spread through town that I've been trying--a number of people have come up to wish me good luck on the fast. Turns out, much to my surprise, village kongossa (gossip) CAN work in positive ways; I've been strengthened in my conviction to finish out the week with every person who stops to ask me about my experiences with Ramadan and why I've chosen to do the fast.Even though I am looking forward to being done, I've learned a lot about Ramadan and how to survive the fast, but I think I've also gained a lot of willpower this week. Even more so, through the exhaustion, I've been able to keep a close eye on the fish farming operation (which is now one week old!!!) Still, I plan to invoke two different clauses from the Qur'an for why I won't finish out Ramadan: the physical labor of farming while I'm in Batouri, and the clause regarding travels for while I'm out and about.

Day 7/Afterward:
I did it. It's done. Today is what would have been day 8 and I'm curled on my couch with a big mug of tea, something I've missed furiously this whole past week. I didn't have to set an alarm for 4:30 today, and when I did finally wake up, I didn't have to force myself to drink unthinkable amounts of water. I won't need to take motos everywhere, and I won't need to avoid that god-awful lunch hour in town. Still, it's been a great experience...and I think I might just do a few more days at the end for Fete de Ramadan. A girl'll do crazy things in the name of integration.

Things ended on the perfect note: dinner at my friend Abdoulaye's house. Abdoulaye's been possibly the most supportive person through the fast, and he's also the most intense person I know when it comes to fasting: he doesn't eat breakfast in the morning so that there's only one meal a day, and he still plays sports on weekends. I am NOT on that level, and I am perfectly okay with that. Over a delicious meal of bouillie and beignets, a cucumber salad, a potato-and-egg dish, and watermelon, we broke the fast. We watched women's soccer and talked about projects we've got planned. Is there a more perfect way to end a day than that? I don't think so.

Now that the fast is over, I've got a few big plans for before I leave on vacation to visit my friend Charla in the Adamaoua region. 1) Exterminate the mouse who seems to be taking refuge in my house. 2) Get a boubou (traditional West African clothing) made for Fete de Ramadan 3) Resolve some financial issues with the fish farming project 4) Try and convince the electrical company to give me my 4+-month late bill. All big things.

Take care, all!

Misunderstanding

29 June 2013

The level of misunderstanding in this country is astounding. Some of it's harmless, but much of it has led to hatred, distrust, and inequity. To some degree, it's understandable--most people don't finish their education here, and the major source of information in this country is the village kongossa (gossip.) Still though, much of this misunderstanding is willful and propogated as a way to justify wrongdoings or to keep a level of power/privilege, like choosing to believe that if a woman has taken off her shoes, she's consented to sex. I'm beginning to wonder if I've lost my ability to be shocked by what people have to say, but I'm hoping that the world won't take that as a challenge to throw some new offensive curveball my way. Not so sure what I'm talking about? All of the statements below are things I've heard come out of my mouth in serious conversation, and I know a number of them are comments that volunteers across the country have to reiterate frequently.
"Michael Jackson is really dead, his death certificate wasn't faked, and he didn't move to an island secretly to avoid the paparazzi."
"Mangoes don't give you Malaria."
"Women CAN play soccer."
"No, really. There's poverty in America, too. It's not just people in Africa that suffer. People die of hunger in America, too, just not as often."
"AIDS wasn't an illness genetically engineered in America and sent over in condoms as a method of population control in Africa."
"Rape is still rape even if you aren't wearing shoes."
"President Obama may be black, but he is an American."
"Americans don't love to kill people, and there are a lot of Americans that don't love war."
"There are Muslims in American. There are Christians in America. Not everyone is religion-less."
"A 13 year-old female is still a child, not a woman."
In my last blog entry, I mentioned that I was about to head out to the West region to help another volunteer with her girls' camp. Well, that came and went. We trained 20 girls age 13-17 to serve as peer educators in their communities on healthy relationships, communication, puberty, and sexual health topics. For a week, we listened to every worry and misdirected rumor these girls had heard. Like American summer camps, the girls complained about cleaning latrines and limited cell-phone/electricity usage, counselors didn't get to sleep because the girls were chatting all night long, and the week concluded with girls presenting sketches that they'd created themselves. Unlike America, though, we ran out of water because girls were showering 3-4 times a day and the counselors were grumpily awakened at 5am to girls energetically running around the bunks to do each others hair and to find a place to privately shower outdoors (we had to restrict the shower facility after the girls trashed it with muddy shoes and clogged the drain.) All that said, it was amazing to see the growth in the girls--they left more confident in themselves as well as in their ability to stand up for their beliefs and rights. As for me, I left believing a little more strongly that Cameroon had a chance of development since parent after grandparent after administrator expressed their appreciation for training the girls, their desire to see the project continue, and their hope that the girls will positively use the information in their own lives.

It was in that climate that I came home to a friend of mine telling me that he was pursuing not just one 13 year-old girl, but two 13 year-old girls for marriage, one of whom would be ripped out of her family in Nigeria. This particular individual has a child older than the girls he's seeking for marriage. This desire to marry a child can't be blamed on social status or on education--he's a speaker at one of the local mosques, runs a fairly profitable business, has a university degree, and speaks 3 of the world's most predominant languages (English, Arabic, and French) as well as a number of local and regional languages. If there's anything more disheartening than this, I never want to hear it.

I'm trying to remind myself that change is coming and that more and more people are chosing marriages based on love and mutual consideration. Although it's been slow to hit West and Central Africa, feminism is coming and it will be a force to be reckoned with if the girls from the camp are any sign of the future. Normally in French I'd end that statement with "incha'allah" or "si Dieu permit" (God willing/If God permits, respectively,) but this isn't a question of God: this is a clear issue of human and social rights. There should be no question about God's will, government's role in creating a better world for women, or man's role in evening out the playing field.

Weighty subject? Yes. Important? Absolutely.

Lighter Notes:

Grant money is in and the work is commencing! We got back our original technician (Ebba Oundi) who I'd worked with last year on the soy and moringa field and now the two technicians will be splitting up the work and combining their expertise. I'm now more confident that this project will finish on time and with less drama (our other technician, Franklin, is in love with my post-mate.) There will be photos soon of the project as we get work going! Let the hole digging, brick making, and HIV teaching begin!!!

President Obama donated $7 BILLION DOLLARS to develop better electrical networks in Sub-Saharan Africa. Needless to say, this is huge. Villages that rely on generators may finally have access to actual electricity. Power outages will be less frequent: students will have better chance at success because they can study even if power's out, patients being treated in hospitals will be more likely to survive,etc. Positive opinions of America are SKYROCKETING as a result of this donation.

I met a Cameroonian on a bus recently who works for a religious group that deals with handicapped populations. He's passing me his personal research, gave me new resources to help me figure out better ways to intervene with the kids, and gave me the numbers of a couple of groups in Yaounde that I'd been trying to figure out how to contact.

I got to see a couple of close volunteer-friends recently and make some CRAZY GOOD American(ish) meals! Broccoli Alfredo? Yes please. And, found an awesome bakery in the country capital with real sandwiches!

My pantry back in Batouri is officially restocked with American goodies that are impossible to find in my region: peanut butter, Nutella, brown sugar, ground ginger. Life is good.

My fridge no longer closes without being tied shut, and it appears my ceiling has sprung a huge leak. But, at least there haven't been any unwanted animal visitors recently!

Ramadan should be starting this coming Monday or Tuesday. Check back soon for details about my adventures in trying to do a week of the fast! For anyone who's details about Ramadan are a little unclear: a required month of fasting for healthy individuals (no water/food from sun-up to sun-down) to purify and show devotion to God, ends in a day-long party of meal after meal after meal (here it's called Fete de Ramadan.)

Take care, everyone!