Insomnia

Today was just such a bizarre day that I have to write about it. Firstly (a word that my students love to overuse) I have only four days of my amoeba and typhoid medication left! Yay for no more cipro (as much as I love the stuff). Everything seems to be getting back to normal. Well, I guess, define normal.

Last night I had my first experience ever with insomnia. I doubt it’s real insomnia, but I was awake—knowing I should be asleep but I didn’t feel tired. I kept trying to adjust myself into a better position, but I wasn’t able to fall asleep. There was no heavy-eyes, no amount of keeping my eyes open staring into the dark would make me want to close them. So I gave up and started doing work.

It feels like today is the first day of being better, even considering that I’ve been teaching classes and doing stuff and things while sick. I just felt like I was actually facing the day rather than forcing my way through it. Um, I’m also counting my accidental all-nighter of lesson planning and club planning and travel planning and scheduling as today. I figure that I’m allowed to since it’s 9:30ish pm and I’m running on three hours of sleep (I DID fall asleep around 5!!).

Insomnia seems to be a common complaint among my friends here in Cameroon. Grace and Patti have had their own experiences with it, Ma Sophie has told me about having problems sleeping (I love it—in Cameroon if you ask someone if they slept well they tell you the TRUTH), Agnes has had some trouble, so it seems like it is my turn.

I think I’m going to just take you on a run-through of the day. I got up and left the house around 10 am. Philo (my neighbor, the phys ed teacher) was just coming back from teaching and held her moto for me. She also made sure that I knew the price to my destination—she’s thoughtful like that and doesn’t want me paying the white-people price (la prix blanche). I haven’t mentioned this before since I’ve been so terrible at the blagging business, but I really REALLY love my neighbors. Philo and Catherine (also my landlady) shift back and forth from being pseudo-mothers and friends. (Catherine is planning on bringing me with her sometime to her gym—1000 cfa/2 bucks a session.)

I went to Ewa’s house and dropped off my empty Tangui bottles (I learned recently that her name is spelled with a ‘w’ and while I probably won’t go back and correct previous errors I’ll be doing it correctly from now on). I’m being super serious about drinking lots of bottled water (to avoid more typhoid and amoebas) while I’m taking ridiculous medications, the one positive is that Ewa recycles everything so even though I’m being quite terrible to the environment I know that the bottles are being used for charity projects (the big bottles go to the prison, the small ones go to the orphans). I talked to Isabelle (Ewa’s house help) to ask her about prices for repairing my backpack’s zipper (ALYSSA I broke my MEC green backpack, who knew that was possible?) and the little metal connector thingy that attaches to my gas bottle. That along with actual pans to sauté and boil food, some containers to hold silverware, and clothes hangers is all I really need (you know, besides furniture) to make my house inhabitable.  Double bonus points: I spent less money than the university allocated for me so I get to give money back to them. How Indian am I today, right? White people prices my foot. (I'll be posting what I paid for what on a later blag post.)

I went to see my tailor, Aissatou, because I wanted to get a good price on repairing the backpack. She took me to one of her friends. Hopefully he’ll do a good job on it, I need it intact so I can travel for Thanksgiving. We talked awhile, she was mad at me for not calling and told me I lost weight so I got to explain my fun diseases! She’s a great tailor, she makes good clothes quickly and does what you want. She made both of the dresses I ordered from her exactly to my specifications so I’m bringing her some more business in the form of Grace, Patti and Agnes. I told her about my awesome deal on a gas bottle (Catherine and I found one for 28 thou the other day—the only gas available in town is AfriGas and because they’re the only ones in business they’ve been selling it for 36 thou) and we gossiped about the fact there isn’t any gas in Yaounde and Douala and that there is not going to be any more gas until December. Trust—this is a big deal. Cooking with wood and/or charcoal isn’t like a cookout every day.

Then I headed back to Ewa’s house for lunch, we had delicious Polish food in the form of cabbage soup, cabbage and some meat and Polish rice. I’m really loving Polish food cooked by Isabelle. Excellent. Then I was planning on leaving with Ewa after lunch, but she held me off and said I needed to stay and talk to the priest who was coming. His name is similar-ish to my name, Miralek (sp?) he speaks English and is missing the forefinger on his right hand. He was coming from a village 50 km away from Bertoua, and bringing a new student for Ewa’s school. Ewa runs a school for the deaf and dumb (Grace asked if that was politically correct and I’m not sure—anyone know?), there are only two schools of its kind in Cameroon and this is the only one for the whole East Province. After talking with Agnes and Miralek about an exorcism he had recently witnessed (the story was complete with the possessed girl’s devil voice—awesome.) and the problems that married Catholic priests face, I asked Miralek to drop me off downtown. I was feeling like I was on a roll and I wanted to head to the Business School and ask them when I was to be teaching—there are a number of questions in my travel plans for next semester are up in the air until I know when I’m working, you know? I’ve taken it to heart that if I want things done and I want any order and structure in my life I’m going to have to create it myself.

But I digress back to the fact that I was hitching a ride with the Catholic priest I just met—he said he needed to stop by Ewa’s school really quick. It was my first time there. It is a small space, three ‘rooms’ that are separated by cloth. There is a constant clamor, but the close proximity of the other classes seems to make little difference. “Bonjour” in French or Cameroonian sign language (I’m not sure, I’ll ask) looks like “Thank you” in American sign language. Right hand open with the tip of the fingers touching the mouth that falls down into the open left hand. Then you finish with a typical, Cameroonian handshake. After the second part of the transaction happened I stopped touching my fingers to my lips. Yeah. And to think when I first entered the room I thought they were all blowing kisses at each other. Good one Meera.

It was incredible, seeing what Ewa does and seeing how happy the children look. They were all looking at the new student Miralek had just brought and we went out to his truck to get this kids stuff. His baggage consisted of a live chicken, a branch of bananas, a bunch of sugar cane, and some plantains. His reaction to his new classmates coming to help him unload his stuff suddenly made me realize EXACTLY what he was doing, and why he was so worried about his new classmates stealing his things. He was leaving his village, 50 km away, leaving his family to move to Bertoua to come to this school and because he doesn’t communicate in sign language yet no one could explain anything to him yet. No one could tell him that Ewa is looking for a host family for him to live with. No one could tell him that his classmates weren’t going to steal from him. No one could tell him to make sure to move because Miralek was about to back the car out. He was so brave—thinking about it just gives me the chills.

(Shameless plug at this juncture—if any of you know any organizations that would be interesting in donating to Ewa’s organizations, she’s always looking for more money to build medical dispensaries and schools. Also if any GSL people read this, if you wanted to come to Cameroon Ewa could find things for you to do even though I wouldn’t be there for the entire time you’d be there. Sara, Kir, Ninz, how would you like to volunteer with the deaf when you come visit me?)

Then I went to the business school, arranged a meeting for tomorrow, cleaned my house surrounded by my neighbors children, and had a surprise furniture delivery by Catherine. I am now the owner of a cabinet for my kitchen stuff and an armoire for my clothes! I’m excited by the prospect of tomorrow and I feel at peace in Bertoua. I am totes a member of this community.

Now if I could just get some sleep tonight life would be perfect….