"They only send women to the East."

It looks like the shift key on the ride side of my keyboard is not working, so I’m starting to practice using the one on the left. Silly computer.

I noticed, after perusing the blag from yesterday that my English is degrading. This is especially awkward for me considering that’s what I’m here to teach. I’m starting to write English with Frenchy grammar and it’s not a pretty thing. I talked to Vas on the phone today and I couldn’t think of the word ‘upload’ (as in photos) in English. Oh. Just figured out how to fix my shift key. I turned on “Sticky Keys”, oh my gods I’m a genius.

It’s dark outside and somewhere in the quartier someone is blasting some beautiful music, it’s going to be an easy night to fall asleep. It’s been a fantastic day, I slept in (until 9am) and only managed to drag my bum out of the room at around 10. The two things that really forced me outside, because I was having some complacency issues, were that I was starving (I had a Cliff bar for dinner last night) and after brushing my teeth I was officially out of water.

I went out the door, setting the goal for myself to walk all the way to l’Université Internationale de Bertoua. Let me tell you, I did it people and it was a long, hot walk. The first thing I saw as I left the house was a man on a moto wiping out, he just stumbled to the side of the road and sat down leaving his motorcycle where it lay. It looked intensely painful.

I stopped at a street vendor stand and asked for an omelette. It was pretty close to the CW2 (microfinance bank that Patricia works at) and I sat down on a bench and met some of the people in the quartier. They were pretty impressed that I had walked all the way there from where the priests lived (I decided to keep my actual location vague).

For those of you (lucky) people who have access to google maps, I live north of where the River Dja crosses the city and past the hospital. I walked all the way to the eastern part of town, where the university is located. I did pretty good though, I only got lost once!

I ate my breakfast and spoke with Julianne and her friends, and the egg cart guy and his two friends (one of their names were Valéry—I’ll explain why his name is the only one I remember). I basically sat down and started talking to Julianne and her friends with the full intention of getting on with them (because I will have female friends. That is an affirmation.). As we talked about English and how it’s necessary, and the expensive nature of the Uni where I’ll be working and how my hair isn’t naturally purple the conversation eventually delved into exchanging names and….the asking of phone numbers.

I basically refused to give my number to any males, though I did say I’d take their numbers if they really wanted me to be in contact with them. I told them that as a new ‘white’ woman in town it was important for me to be friends with women, not men, and that until I knew them better they couldn’t have my number. Period. Julianne and her friends suddenly became ten times more receptive to my overtures of friendship, which surprised me—though it probably shouldn’t. Being direct about what you want always seems to be the best policy. Julianne and I exchanged numbers—we’re going to hang out at some point in time. Valéry was the only male who decided to give me his number—and that’s why I remember his name.

Also my sandwich also only cost me 200 cfa after I’d originally been told it would be 300. Wooo hoooo for making connections and getting the local price for food.

I went on my way and I found myself only getting “la blanche”-ed as I got closer to the University and exiting the center of town. I also stopped in this crazy fancy grocery store—it was kind of awkwardly beautiful and overpriced. By the time I got to the University I was disgusting, dripping in sweat and sunburned. Once I entered the campus I found I missed a call from Mgr. Krynski, he wanted me to find someone but I missed the question. Turns out he wanted me to find Catherine, one of the students at the Uni and an elementary school teacher. I, of course, went to Maman Sophie to ask for help. I waited with her for Catherine and told her about some of the heckling and how I was trying really hard to make female friends. She said, “you already have one” and pointed at herself. I seriously love this woman.

Catherine came and found and we went to look at an apartment that she (and Mgr. Krynski) wanted me to take. It has a salon, a bedroom, a bathroom and a super tiny kitchen and at this moment is completely unfurnished and kind of dirty. I’m going to take it though, because it’s so close to school and I won’t be living on the campus. The place I have right now is BEAUTIFUL, almost too beautiful and it’s a compound. When I came home today a little girl addressed me as ma sœur…they’re going to think I’m a nun if I stay here! Ok I’m exaggerating, but I like the idea of living next to Cameroonian families (I met the neighbors, one is a physical education teacher and her husband is an English teacher. On my other side there are students.). I want to be safe, but I don’t want to be over-safe…I want to be forced to go out and explore. The other nice thing about this neighborhood is that there are tons of children. I just feel safer when there are a bunch of kids around.

We went to Mgr. Krynski’s house to hammer out the final details. He’s going to provide me with furniture and a gas tank and he wants Catherine to insert a hot water tank for the shower (!). I’m going to be moving in probably next Tuesday. Tomorrow morning I’m going to go with Mgr. Krynski and Raoul up north to the savannah. We’re going to mass and then to a funeral. One of the professors at the University died recently and Mgr. has taken over his classes. He was apparently a really hard worker and is very much missed in the community I’m entering.

I need to wrap this up, because I’m supposed to be up pretty early to head out tomorrow morning.

For dinner tonight I didn’t stay in, I ventured out on the invitation of Patricia and Grace. I met them at Mgr. Krynski’s house and we moto’d into town. They took me to a fish-grill place, where you pick either mackerel or carp. (Sara, for the record, I went for the carp. Those dogs and their cans of jack mackerel have scarred me for life.) Once you pick your side of plantains or manioc sticks we crossed the street and sat down in the bar. I also had the chance to meet up with some of their counterparts from a city three hours away (I forget the name of it already) though they were telling me about how they’d just spent some time at Ralph Nader’s nephew’s house(?!). Apparently it’s a beautiful compound and it has wifi that works and a generator.

Before I went out I had put on bug spray, because the (female) mosquitos that spread malaria are apparently only out between 6pm and 6am. I made the unfortunate mistake of licking my hand after I spilled some coke on it. Let me tell you, coke and bug spray do not make a good cocktail. Grace laughed at me (she spends a lot of time laughing at me) and just said “there’s cholera here, you really need to start letting things [as in the minuscule drop of coke on my hand] go.” Then she told me that I should put it in my blog. So I did.

Both she and Patricia area interested in working with me on the clubs, which I think will be super fun as well as beneficial to the students because they’ll get to interact with three native English speakers. I’m feeling pretty good about life, the universe and everything. Added bonus: I got a chance to talk to Mary tonight, now that she’s decided to call when she says she’s going to call and not inconveniently schedule her car breaking down. It’s been a good day.

Also in terms of safety, when I got home tonight I knocked on the door and set off the guard dog and the guard walked me to my door. Aww.

"Meera. You're crazy."

Well, I made it to Bertoua. I’ll have to get around to writing about the last day of training later, because the last days in Yaoundé were full. I pretty much packed myself up and took off the morning after training... so there was no time for writing, let alone thinking. If you want the basic overview of the third day, however, you can always check out Jade’s blag.

As I write this le soleil se couche, dark is coming and all the noises outside my little room seem to be getting louder. I’m looking forward to two things right now: if gchat ever loads I can talk to Jade and Eva and then eventual call from my parents later tonight. I don’t say this to ask for pity (unless you’re offering), because to today has been awesome, but it’s also my first night alone in Bertoua. I think when you’re in a new place you suddenly become hyper-aware of everything that goes around you. I hear shuffling outside and wonder if someone is coming towards my door. So I’m trying to distract myself, to reflect on the last two days and convince myself that everything really is as fine as I know that it must be.

Right? Right.

This is making me exhausted. I think I could fall asleep right now and it’s 6 pm.

Storytelling time.

Yesterday morning I was this wretched mix of excitement and nervousness. I’d amused the other two ETAs the night before by pacing back and forth and back and forth across the length of my hotel room—needing physical relief for the tension that was building up in my stomach. It felt that my goal of wearing the carpet down was something with which they could both empathize. Eva and I arrived in Yaoundé last Friday, Jade arrived on Sunday evening, and five days later I was the first one to be getting ready to leave a city that didn’t quite feel comfortable yet.

To give you all a little context, I only found out at I would have a place to sleep/live on Tuesday.

As Mignon has said to me multiple times, in a surprisingly affectionate manner, “Meera you’re crazy.” Methinks the woman doth speak sense.

At any rate, I was so excited on the trip to Bertoua that while Mignon and Gerald dozed I was up and looking out the window. (Truth-time: I was also fairly nauseous because of the doxycycline.) I wanted to see the hills change into rainforest. I wanted to see if, as we grew closer to Bertoua, whether I would see the savannah. The road, for the majority of the way, was paved. A smooth ride with what looked like fresh paint on the roads. This lasted up to the last, say, hour when the road changed to gravel and later red dirt. This is also when we started seeing huge trees loaded on trucks. I mean trees so large that there was one that had its own truck. It felt like FernGully had come to life. I’ll be on the lookout for Hexxus. (I’m sure he’s operating under the pseudonym of some company. It’s also probably their fault that the road from Yaoundé is so good.)

When those semis took the gravel and dirt part of the roads they kick up so much dust that they coat the trees with either white (gravel) or red (dirt) film. I took some photos of it that I can’t upload because the internet doesn’t work that way. Yet. I’m getting an internet box (even though it's kind of 'spensive) so I can télécharger.

We got into town, met up with Abbé Daniel Woung (the abbot I’ve been talking to for the past couple of weeks), Abbé Valère, Monseigneur Joseph Atanga, and Monseigneur Andre Krynski (he’s Polish and has been in Cameroon and off for the past thirty years). Abbés Daniel and Valère took us to a restaurant called le Bois D’Ebène (The Wood of Ebony) for lunch. There was python on the menu. I know. I’m going to have to try it, and Gerald told me viper too. The proprietress of the place, Édith, told me that she’d teach me how to cook! I promise not to return home until I can cook snake. (Side note: viper tastes like a delicious piece of fish according to Mgr. Krynski.)

Afterwards they took me to my new home, a one room apart with a bathroom that has hot water (!), a desk and a cabinet that locks, and a queen sized bed with sheets. There are also lots of crosses and pictures of Jesus, so it’s decorated. It is on what will be, starting October 25^th, the campus for the School of Business—which is across town from the rest of the University. It also means that there is construction happening, so Mignon and I walked into the lot and the place was full of men. Père Daniel assured us that my neighbors would all be good, religious women, but at that moment there were no neighbors to introduce me to. I appear, as of today, to be the only person living on the campus (though I do live right behind the Rector, Mgr. Atanga). 

Mignon basically gave me the out to spend the night in her hotel room, which I took instantly. It was just…after a day of traveling to suddenly be dropped at an apartment in a strange place with all these strange men right before it was going to be dark was almost too much. Mignon bought me a big flashlight (‘that you could hit someone with’) as my ‘housewarming present.’ I told her about the man-killer Mary, I think you two would get on.

Today we met Abbé Daniel at the bank SGBC (where I found out that I can withdraw money!) and he took me to the campus. There I met Maman Sophie, who runs the kitchen on campus, and was introduced to some of my students. They seemed very nice. They were also eating bush meat in the form of monkey. Mamam Sophie told me that I should try a little, eventually, and see how it makes me feel. I feel like I can’t not, you know?

I also asked Maman Sophie about artists in the area, and she has a friend who makes jewelry. (There are also Senegalese people who own bijouteries (jewelry stores) that sell reasonably priced gold jewelry--also according to Mgr. Krynski.) Maman told me she’d talk to her friend who is a metal smith in the Artisanal Center, which is on the western part of town. I’m already making connections for you, Sara and Casey, and it’s only the first day! She said they’d be very interested in meeting some American jewelry artists. More data forthcoming.

After that Mgr. Krynski skipped class to take me to meet up with the two Peace Corps Volunteers stationed in Bertoua. Patricia works with M. Emmanuel, le chef of a microfinance corporation (!!!) and Grace teaches English two hours a week at a primary (I think) school. When I finally get around to buying credit (which I blew on an awesome call with Eva and Jade last night) I should ask her if she wants to help me with my tasks.

I am starting, this Monday, by working out how to evaluate the students for two levels of English in two different courses. (Thank all the gods for you Jen.) Every Friday I’ll be working with a professor teaching two classes (one from 8-12 and the other from 2:30-4). Then I’ve also been asked to run or work with (my choice) two clubs one on English and one on the United States. So I’ve got plenty to do if Grace wants to help me out.

I had lunch  at Mgr. Krynski’s house today. It consisted of soup (made out of melon—really good) with fresh parsley, a SALAD with yogurt dressing, fish, vegetables and finishing with wild grapefruit. Heaaavennnnnn. Well I am working at a Catholic university, I shouldn’t expect any less. I also met Raoul, who lives in the same house with Mgr. Krynski, and is the head accountant. Mgr. gave me an herb, grown in German monastery, which had been show that it helped guard against paludisme (malaria), so I took a bit. I made the joke that this herb was sweet, to which Raoul had to ask if it really was sweet. (For the record it wasn't, but still infinitely more pleasant than doxycycline.) 

Mgr. had to go teach a class after lunch, so Raoul took me downtown to get one of the USB drives that let you access the internet, and then dropped me back off at my new house. I wasn’t so nervous coming back to this place, and now I have tasks to do, like preparing for class on Monday. I hope you’ve noticed, because I certainly have, the calming/cathartic effect that this post has had on my general outlook on life. I think I’m ready to post this, start unpacking and find a place where I can hang my mosquito net.

Kisses & Misses, M

Monday. The Day Vas Broke Rules 1 & 2 of This Blag.

Today was a terribly full day. I was up bright and early at 6:15 messing around with This American Life, check out the episode cry-babies by the way, and waking Jade and Eva up at an ungodly hour of 6:45. Our embassy ride came to pick us up at 7:50, when our schedule said 8:30 so that was a slight confusion. I was super excited for the day and it was great, though we spent the entire day indoors.

Today we went over teacher training with Jen, whom Fulbright had flown in from Finland where she teaches university. She was one of the TEOFL pros who did the workshop with us at the Fulbright orientation in DC. She’s really, truly awesome. Today we went over how to evaluate students and how to structure classes, how to focus groups, and how to utilize resources that aren’t highly technological. It was great, I felt that I learned something from everything she said.

We also had a Managing Expectations from a PC Coordinator, Gabbie, who knows Kelly whom we’re having dinner with tomorrow! Small world in the American Ex-Pat-riverse. He taught us a really useful skill of ‘community mapping’ which is where you make your own map, start keeping track of when things happen and over a three month period create a picture of your community that is feasible and working. I’m pretty excited to put what he taught us into use. He also told me that there will be two PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) in Bertoua, which is a huge weight off my shoulders.

The final orientation that we had was a “staying healthy” orientation where we mostly talked about malaria, how sick you can feel from eating peanuts off the street, how Eva and I really ought to get rabies shots before going out into the boonies, and a whole feast of other parasites and evil critters. Man. There’s a lot to worry about if you let it take over. Gerald basically told us that we are all going to get malaria. Yay. Malaria, and typoid, and parasites too!

After the embassy we dragged Jen with us and met up with Mackenzie because we thought we were going to go to the American school to meet up with Lindsey and Brian (the entire English department). Unfortunately, our session got out kind of late so Brian and Lindsey had already gone home (they did, after all, have French lessons at 6 so it was a small window of time to begin with). They texted me though and we’ll switch files and info tomorrow, I’m truly grateful that they’re being so generous with us poor novice ETAs.

So we asked Antoine to drop us off a place that served Cameroonian food, since that was the leftover goal from yesterday. We had amazing food, I love the savory beneits that they served along with these greens/onions combo that rivalled even Mary’s spinach palya. I know mom, don’t freak out, but it was that good. I had a bean dish (koki maybe?) and some fish in green sauce and a wide assortment of Cameroonian food from a buffet. It was pretty cool because we were the only les blanches in the facility, which makes me feel like it was better tailored to local tastes (that could be perception but I’m sticking with it!).

Joe called us during dinner and we pledged to meet up at the hotel at 8 for drinks. He had a small (as in two) roach problem at his apartment and had been MIA for the past two days so it was really nice to see him and see how he’s doing. He’s promised to let me come back to Yaoundé and shadow him on his research, he’s doing work with wildlife conservation through the WWF and some other organization and it sounds really interesting. It was nice to sit down with other Fulbrighters and talk about life, the universe and everything. We also used big words like deluge, cacophony and dramatical. Because we’re awesome and well-read.

I consumed the normal amount of wine that Sara and I would partake on a night where we had dinner. Apparently it might just be an ‘us’ thing Sar, who knew? At any rate I’m ready to do my homework and head for bed. It’s going to be an early morning because Eva (and maybe Jade) want to head to our egg-shack for breakfast.

This Post Is Terrible and Unedited. Deal with it.

The interweb has left my life for the moment, so this blag post, while written, probably won’t get up on the internet for a while. It is the second full day in Cameroon.

We arrived on Friday at about 4:30pm, approximately two hours before Paul Biya (the Prez) was due back from Nigeria’s 50^th anniversary of independence. As we were driving back to town from the airport there were soldiers (and snipers!) everywhere, ready to shut down traffic when he arrived.

Besides the politics and drama, the flight in was really nice. I’ve always been happy to fly Belgiun’s airline—the food is always good. Eva and I flew in and we watched the land below us change between Tunisia’s desert to greener and greener. Yaounde is beautiful, green with red soil that you can see from the sky.

We got into the hotel, Hotel Azur which is located in Bastos (the posh/expat bit of town). We’re just down the street from the pink Brazilian embassy and the German embassy.

Met up with Joe (a research Fulbrighter) and ate dinner in the hotel before passing out,

Woke up on Saturday, early, and started exploring the town. We wandered around Bastos, past Restos and people selling cards, into a supermarché called au bon prix and down around the road. We found an awesome resto/food stand (like the egg shack near WARC except that it had lace hanging over the doorway) and ordered eggs with spaghetti and Eva got an omelet. Then we went down the hill and saw this beautiful garden, people selling craw-fish and a football field with people playing soccer(really well, actually). 

We then took a random road off of the rond-point and headed up towards what appeared to be a neighborhood. 

Then we wandered up to this neighborhood with fancy houses and lots of embassies. Some people outside the house said they liked my dress (Sarah! It was the purple one I got in St. Louis!).We climbed up the hill and randomly ran into our hotel. The goal of the day was actually to walk to the American embassy, so we went there next and ran into our expeditor who told me about how one can get cell phones with two sim cards (les puces) how crazy is that?

Then we decided to walk up Mt. Febe to get a good view of the city: Eva decided to take a short cut up the golf court.  It was the most intense short cut ever, the golf course’s main hill is at a 90 degree angle. But once we got to the top we had been told that there is a gate to the hotel and we just had to push. So we did and got up into Hotel Mt. Febe, super posh, great view. Had drinks in the hotel and they tried to give me money (the bartender took my 5 thou cfa and gave me the chance as though I'd paid with 10 thou). Also tried to get a better map of Yaounde (later that evening when I was asking if there was a good map of Yaounde I was told that if I found one I was expected to share the wealth), though the map we were given was from 2001. Eva's guidebook is from 2008 yet still is horribly out of date.

Mignon invited us to an Oktoberfest bash, with beer and brat and sauerkraut, which was just a bizarre experience to have for the first thirty minutes. Afterward it became uber (I know, so German) fun and all of us made a ton of connections with other Americans and expats in Yaounde. I even met some people who had been to Bertoua! 

Another connection formed was a former peace corps volunteer, current awesome person and teacher named Kelly gave me a potential ‘shopping list’ for living out in the boonies. This includes a big pot to boil water, water filter, mozzie net (1000cfa),  Tupperware (for weevils), bush-lamp, candles, camping stove (with attachment for gas), flat sheets. Most of this could be bought at Nikki, the supermarché in town with lots of branches. She also told us about markets, the big one Mokolo is where one ought not take a purse and can be slightly overwhelming the first time (I’m thinking like Sandaga in Dakar), though it does have the most stuff. The other market she mentioned was Etoudi, which was about 200cfa from our hotel. We also made dinner plans for Tuesday.

Later that night Mignon told Eva and I when we’d be taking off for our posts. I’m leaving on Thursday at 8am, the day after our orientation ends, and Eva’s taking off for Bambili next Tuesday. Exciting though I’m a bit bummed that I won’t get to explore Yaounde a bit longer.

Sunday

The three of us dragged ourselves out of bed for church, because Mackenzie (one of the research Fulbrighters) had spent the night. Yesterday as Eva and I were hauling ourselves all over town we had seen people crawling and praying up the steps to the Benedictine monastery on Mt. Febe. Eva wanted to go to service and I was definitely interested in going to see that. We went to Au Bon Prix, I grabbed some madeleines and the others ate beignets. Then we cabbed up the mountain for 800 cfa (500 cfa is approximately a buck btw), which seemed like too good of a deal based on how quickly the cabbie accepted our offer. Silly ‘les blanches’. The service was great, it seemed like a  really tight-knit community in that church. They made fun of one of their priests who had been gone for three months and grown a beard. One of the priests was an Indian guy who incorporated the teaching of sages into his sermon, interesting right? Reminded me a bit of Vas. After the service we ran into one of the people we met at Oktoberfest at church (WHO we’d also seen at the golf course while walking up the hill and who I’m fully expecting to see today).

We went back to the hotel watched Rachel Maddow and fell asleep for awhile, because we’d worn ourselves out the day before. Then Eva and I dragged ourselves out of bed, has some leftover Belgian chocolate for lunch and headed off in the direction of Etoudi market. THIS was where we’d figured out how much a 200 cfa per place taxi far was worth in distance. I’ll have you know it’s pretty far, I’d say easily a 10-20 minute ride (including some slow downs to see if there were people interested in going). Etoudi was pretty chilled as far as markets go, we saw the food section, perused spices, saw cooking supplies, and saw some dresses (we each got one just to see if our bargaining skills were where they ought to be). Then we wandered down the hill and up again, past Paul Biya’s big mutated Grecian monstrosity of a house (though I’ll admit it’s not quite as boxy and prison-like as our embassy--don't get me wrong though, I love embassies because of the people I meet inside them. Aesthetically they do nothing for me.). 

Then we started seeing houses of a not-so-nice quality, the sun was becoming lower and the sky and we didn’t really want to start wandering into areas of town we weren’t familiar with (esp. since it’s only our second full day in Yaounde). But I started to get convinced we were in the right area, and then we saw OBAMA’S FAN CLUB (which was the landmark for getting back) and we took a cab for 300cfa in total to get back to the hotel.

Jade was supposed to get in and she was rather late, but Eva and I held off waiting for her til about 8 o’clock. At that point we were starving and Eva suggested to go to a Chinese place (there’s a large Chinese population in Yaounde—when we were in the market she kept being called la chinoise, people said “ni hao” which kind of sounded like “nee haw” or "hello" in Mandarin. Eva’s family speaks Cantonese (totes jealous, Vas why didn't you teach us Kannada?). At the resto, which Eva started calling “her place” we realized we hadn’t yet eaten Cameroonian food (other than street food), I’m especially thinking of trying Ndole which is the national dish. (it’s a green bitter leaf dish with groundnuts/peanuts).

Jade finally came, really late last night after a ridiculous travel day and though we were really excited to see her we decided to let her sleep since we have a big day today. It’s 7:20 am, we’re not being picked up for our orientation til 8:30 am and there’s still no interweb. "Oh interweb, where are you?" cried the spoiled little western princess.

Every time you say you don't believe in fairies, a fairy dies.

Damage update, since it wasn't clear from my last post, the injuries from the escalator are minimal. Just some bruises and scrapes, but nothing to get excited about. I have, however, been enjoying Mary's skype status which went from "wear a helmet when you are on the escalator" to "things not to throw down an escalator" coupled with a photo of me. Aww mommy, you're so funny.

Oh my gods, back to important things, amazing day in Brussels. Nina and I slept in, managed to finagle our way into another night at the same hostel, I picked up Eva at the airport and we did the mandatory tourist stuff (like visiting the rather unimpressive Manneken Pis [who was dressed like a Cypriot for reasons unknown] and the park off the royal palace), and headed off to EP-Land (a Ninaism referring to the area of Brussels used by the European Union Parliament that inspired the Barry-like blag-post-title).

Two quick things about the park: it's probably my favorite part of Brussels, there is a small resto inside that sells hot wine and hors d'oeuvres alongside a stand that sells waffles. Nina came to the conclusion early on that Brussels is all about the food (i.e. Moules frites, waffles, fries[or chips, whatever] and mayo, BEER...) and I must concur. The waffle that we had in the park was a three syllable a-ma-zing. The Belgians sure know how to make a waffle, and they melt sugar inside them. (Sara, I think they basically put half the batter on the waffle iron, sprinkle some sugar in the middle and then put the other half of the batter so that the sugar is sandwiched in the center) It ends up having this caramel-taste/flavor and does not require any toppings or syrup. De-lish-yus.

Exploring EP-Land was actually a bit of an accident. We were failing pretty fantastically at being tour guides for Eva, who was having her first day in Brussels, so we just decided to head over to the bars in that area after having some lovely hot wine and waffle in the park. What we didn't know is that they were having a FREE European-Food-Fest in front of the parliamentary building. This just goes to show that you can't plan free dinner and drinks, but you can certainly take advantage of an opportunity when it pops up.

I think we really have Poland to thank for most of our food. The Poland stand had a wide assortment of food, including a meat dish (which we thing was onions caramelized and spiced and then meat (perhaps cow? I have issues identifying meat) added and cooked slowly until it was falling apart and then a bit of vinegar), several cheeses, bread, beer and some honey vodka. The honey vodka was delicious. Maggie, you lived in Poland, why didn't you tell me about the honey vodka? I complained about your lack of data-sharing to the ladies at the stand and their response (read: excuse for you) was "well there are so many kind of vodka in Poland, perhaps she never tasted this one." I'm not buying it. Explain yourself please. (Just kidding, I adore you. But if you could explain why this topic never came up that would be awesome...)

The other tables were great as well, there was lots and lots of wine in France (we helped ourselves liberally), liqueur from Estonia made with herbs that reminded me a bit of Chartreuse except for the fact that it was red not green, strange fig-chocolate-cake and amazing caraway seed/sea-salt bread-sticks from the Czech Republic, some more wine from Austria, wine and lamb and salad from Greece. I know what you're thinking now. We were a bit too stuck on the French tent so we missed the food at Italy. Also apparently the UK wasn't making an appearance, I was rather hoping to get a taste of pub lunch.

At any rate, Eva went to bed after our adventures and Nina and I closed down the night at a little restaurant down the street that we may turn into "our" place this Brussels trip. It's good to have a place. I also posit that the uncertainty (since, you know, we didn't plan accommodation this trip. whoops. don't freak out parental units! it's gone swimmingly since the escalator incident.) and incredible amount of fun we're having in Brussels is great preparation for the uncertainty and incredible fun that will be happening in Cameroon in two days. Super. Pumped.

Seeing as it's 6:19 in the morning, I may try to go back to sleep.

xxM

Lost a Battle with an Escalator

Made it to Brussels, am super exhausted and fell head-first down escalators in the gare du midi. Apparently the synapses didn't connect today. For future reference: if your really really really heavy suitcase starts to fall on the escalator just let it go, don't try to hold onto it. Bad things will happen.

On the bright side! COFFEE AND COOKIES. Oh, and Nina at 5:30.

Superstition

Greetings & Salutations

I thought we would start out today with a countdown (for those of you who don't know, the proper way to do this is start counting at tomorrow because today is pretty much over):
12 days until I leave Nebraska
26 days until I leave the Estadios Unidos
31 days until I arrive in Cameroon!

I learn a little bit more every day about where I'm going, but not really anything about what I will be doing (and that, my friends, will be the adventure portion of our program!). I'm going to be an English Teaching Assistant (ETA) in Bertoua, Cameroon, at the Université Internationale de Bertoua, fondly known as the UIB. Bertoua is the capital of the East Province of Cameroon. It is a Catholic University with three different faculties (religion, education and management/business) and approximately 300 students. I'll get to be their first Fulbright ETA!

Holy Goddesses.

Speaking of Goddesses that is exactly one of the things that I was given at my going away party: a protective goddess pendant and a bunch of sacred sage.

Yeah, she's totally sunbathing on my manila envelope from the IIE. Not set up at all.

With the exception of this photoshoot and the occasional shower, my goddess has been hanging out around my neck. She makes me feel very loved and cared for, since I know some people I love charged her full of positive thoughts. The sacred sage (from the beautiful Tataya), which I will be burning all over my new home in Bertoua,, is intended to remove the bad spirits and negative auras that sometimes exist in houses (so I hear, I've never experienced any negative energy in any of my houses....wow, that sage is good!).

Mr. Paul was telling me a story yesterday, he has two routines when moving in and out of houses. The first item in and the last item out of every house he moves into is a talisman that his mother gave him. The second ritual is cleansing the house with sacred sage. The only time he ever, EVER, failed to follow these two routines his house was broken into (yeah, the same day he moved in). He told me in certain terms that it is something you just have to do, dude. I think I'll give it a whirl, Mr. Paul tends to give good advice like "save your histrionics for the stage."

I've been thinking a lot about traditions, superstitions and the things you do when you're moving. Every time my Ajji (and often Vas and Mary) move we always conduct a Ganesha Pooja to acknowledge and welcome the new beginnings. I'm pretty open to trying new ceremonies, but I'm starting to think that when I get older I'll be such a mish-mash of superstitions I won't know where any of them came from. ("Oh well this was a really wonderful tradition and I started using and mixing it with this other lovely tradition from this completely different......"). It's fine though, burning sage and chanting Sanskrit is totally going to happen.

The process of moving is going peacefully, there is a lot of pausing and playing with dogs. Because they're adorable. New superstition: petting puppies can reduce stress and make you happier no matter what else is going on in your life. SO TRUE!

Isn't that the face Snoopy makes when he's dancing?

To be brutally honest, the white dog with the black eye is my personal favorite. The other one's a puggle and all trouble. Case and point:

Oh Moocifer.

That is all she wrote today folks, it's time to go outside and get some vitamin D.

King Tut's papyrus!!!

The purple plant in the background is so cool and, apparently, edible. Nom nom.

xxM


*Ammendment to the previous post (with gratitude to Michelle):

additional rule/general suggestion:
7. Comment when and where you will. All comments are subject to the previous six rules.