Week Three: Bamenda

This past weekend was pretty good. Steve, one of the VSO volunteers, found my blog online and invited me to meet up with them on Friday night at a restaurant called Dreamland. Everyone told me not to be out at night alone, so I arranged with Steve beforehand that I would be dropped off by someone that night. I decided to walk to Dreamland, even though it was 6:30 and quite dark already. I was fine, but definitely didn’t feel so safe on the streets alone. Once I got into town I felt fine, just the area I’m staying in outside of town is quite poor and has had a lot of armed robberies lately. In fact, I found out on Saturday night that in the past week, one of the volunteers working at the hospital had seen 5 patients who suffered gun shots from armed robberies. One of the patients had been shot 42 times in his legs; another man had been shot twice about a half an inch below his heart, close call. Everyone here tells me that it’s a somewhat recent problem; apparently Bamenda used to be much safer. People are getting poorer in Cameroon, and the government is letting all the public goods and infrastructure fall apart. The latter statement is undoubtedly true; the roads here are nonexistent–taxis can’t drive my road and its right off the main intersection in Bamenda, the schools are over populated and underfunded, the corruption is rampant–even just the road blocks I have seen blow my mind, and Paul Biya is a joke–he lives in France most of the time. It’s too bad the country is stuck with this President and party until 2011.

And I digress…Friday night was fun; I met a ton of interesting people. I was happy just to have some people to hang out with and talk with after work. It’s difficult living in a new place like this where there aren’t too many things to remind you of home or your culture. No theatres, no people up past 8 pm, no American-type food, no nothing. So, it was nice to have this random assortment of people from the UK, Germany, Canada, and the Philippines come together. Although we had very little in common, we are all giving our lives to help others in a foreign place and we all feel a little lost at times.

On Saturday I met up with Steve downtown and we walked around the main market; although I’ve stressed how big it is before, I think I need to re-stress it. Every time I’m there I re-realize how massive it really is. We walked around for a while, just checking things out; I considered purchasing some meat since I still hadn’t had any since I’d been here. But when we walked by the meat section and I saw huge cow head after cow head in front of each butchers stand, I decided fish wasn’t so bad. Although, after the meat section is the fish section; it was about two square blocks of rotting, roasted, or dried fish. The smell was indescribable. Perhaps just veggies…

Steve also showed me the whiteman hang out in town–the supermarket! I had no idea there was one in Bamenda. Although I was ecstatic on Saturday, I’ve had a few days to reflect, and it’s really not that great. Ha ha. They did have tuna, mustard, pickles, and yoghurt you don’t have to refrigerate, so I can’t complain; however, there wasn’t a whole lot else. We decided to go for lunch at a place called Uncle Sam’s. Don’t let the name fool you, it’s not a cute diner, nor does it have a whole lot in the way of western food. BUT, they did have ‘pizza’–no choice of what goes on it, ha ha, and they had burgers. So I had a burger and Steve had a pizza; although it was possibly the worst burger I’ve had in a while, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a burger so much. Ha ha. On Saturday night we went to one of the VSO volunteer’s houses to hang out and have some beers. It was nice. We all just chilled, snacked on fried plantain, and talked about all the robberies and gunshot wounds. Ha ha.

Sunday was somewhat relaxing. Just did some work and walked around the market again. I found some pretty good food items on Sunday as well–lettuce! I know that a head of lettuce may not seem that exciting to those of you with grocery stores on every street corner that are all filled with fresh, cold, clean produce, but for me, it was huge. I haven`t seen any lettuce here and had been really craving a salad. So, Sunday night I got to have my favourite salad, with red onion, tomatoes, carrots, pickles, and lettuce!

Monday morning I was back to the corn flake issue…only now I had powdered milk. I had mixed it before to use in my corn flakes, but it just tastes gross. It’s watery, but has the flavour of heavy cream; just not really my thing. But alas, there was a solution–yoghurt and corn flakes. Although the flavours of youghurt were a little weird–pineapple and peach–especially with corn flakes, it was a large improvement from water, tea, and powdered milk. Monday morning I led a training session on the new computer interface that Kiva is going to be using and on some basics like journaling and uploading business profiles. It should have been a two hour at very most session; we started at 7:30 and didn’t end until 12:30. Five hours of standing, explaining and answering questions. I suppose it was good they were asking so many questions, but I still don’t think the extra three hours made too much difference. Once they use it and test it out things will make a lot more sense.

By Monday afternoon, my shower was installed! I was so excited I used my lunch break to go shower. I probably should have just had my lunch; it was somewhat of a disappointment, ha ha. It is essentially an outdoor tap sticking out of the cement wall outside about 6 feet up. It was so unbelievably cold, especially with the wind; I shivered the whole time. On the upside, for the first time my hair actually felt clean and rinsed. I have yet to brush my hair since I’ve been here. I just haven’t seen any brushes, and I forgot mine at home; I can’t say I brush my hair that much at home either, ha ha, I don’t think you can even tell. I think I’ll try and make it till I get home without.

My eyes have been bothering me since Saturday night; as gross as it sounds, they are gooey, burning and constantly watering. At first I thought it was the dust, but I think I may have sun burnt them. I don’t usually wear sunglasses here; none of the locals do, so I feel like it makes me stand out even more. I know, stupid, I’m a whiteman, whether or not I’m wearing glasses, I stand out, ha ha. I’ve been putting drops in every time I think about it; Steve gave me some that he had used when he first got here. I hope it clears up soon; I keep remembering that story that my mom sent me when I was in Kenya about some Canadian girl that lost sight in one of her eyes because some parasite got under her contact lens. Thanks mom, as if I don’t have enough to worry about, ha ha.

On Monday afternoon, Thomas Ngwa, one of my favourite clients stopped by the office. He came to bring me a bucket of palm wine. Ha ha. He was on his way into town and remembered that we had talked about it, so he got me some from his raffia bush. I offered to pay for it, but of course he refused. Funny how the people with the least are always the ones who refuse to be paid for things like that. The amount of free food and drink that I’ve been offered here is quite ridiculous, sometimes I refuse, sometimes I don’t have a choice (like the sardine sandwich).

Tuesday morning I was going into the field to meet Ernest in Nkwen, about a 20 minute bike ride from Mankon, where I am. Now, by bike, I mean motorbike. I take motorbikes every time I travel now, taxis never come up my road and there are always a bunch of young guys sitting on bikes right outside GHAPE ready to go. Most of the time I feel pretty safe, I mean except for when we’re passing taxis and practically playing chicken with a massive goods truck. Other than that, most of the driver’s are pretty good. I have had a few where I thought for sure we were going down; I may be somewhat more skitterish about all this due to the ’scooter incident’. Ha ha. For those of you who do not know about that, I apologize, but that story will not go up on here. Every ride I take there’s usually about four or five times we get some serious air, like a few good inches off the seat. Thank god they have the crate at the back. When I get stuck on the crate, I just hold on to the person in front of me for dear life and try to hold myself down with my legs. The other day my driver took me on a ’short cut’; it looked like a dirt bike track for tricksters, jump after jump after jump. Almost looked like snow moguls, only made out of red clay dirt with puddles everywhere. Although I thought about asking him what he was thinking, after a few jumps it was pretty fun–bit of a rush. It’s strange how some people just love being scared, from scary movies to amusement park rides to dirt bikes to skydiving; some people just love the adrenaline rush and the racing heart. Unfortunately, I am one of those people.

Anyway, I arrived in Nkwen to meet Ernest at 6:10 so we could walk over to the center. Just as we reached the center at 6:30 and saw the door was locked, Ernest asked me what day it was. I told him Tuesday the 28th. He immediately looked down at his shoes and said under his breath “I made the meeting for Wednesday…” I just about died, ha ha. He then asks, with his eyes still on the ground “Are you very, very mad with me Jennifer?” People in the office, and everywhere I’ve seen in Cameroon tend to yell, a lot. My neighbours are always screaming at one another. Vicky, who is 26, is always screaming at Barbara, who is 16, for being self centered, selfish, and lazy. Ha ha. Sounds familiar. And Loveline is always yelling at everyone in the office. I told Ernest that of course I wasn’t mad, I didn’t mind. Now I knew where to go for the actual meeting, ha ha. So, we decided to walk back to the office, since we still had an hour till it opened. The walk took us about an hour and 15 minutes. It was quite a hike. It was great though, I can’t really go for walks or anything during the week unless I go downtown. Walking downtown is pretty gross, every car that goes by leaves a trail of black smoke behind it, and the big trucks are especially bad.

At lunch Ernest, Mr. Eric and I sat outside and drank some of the leftover palm wine. I actually prefer it the next day; it’s not as fruity, but still sweet. Apparently if I bottle the palm wine with ‘elephant grass’ (whatever that is), the wine will start to ferment 10 days later. So, depending on the post mail here, I might give it a shot, or buy some the day I come home. I may have to drink it in the airport when I pick up my bags though, ha ha. It is pretty tasty stuff; I think it could be a pretty prime export for Cameroon if someone could figure out the whole fermentation thing. When you drink a glass, you can see it ferment right before your eyes; turns a thicker white in under 5 minutes. It’s crazy.

For lunch, I decided to make stir fry with the broccoli I had found in the market over the weekend (also a difficult thing to find here for some reason). I really wanted some sort of protein to put in it, considering I would be eating it for lunch and dinner two days in a row. I ventured down to the supermarket and starting searching. The only meat substance I could find was mini non-fat hot dogs, they looked supremely foul; they tasted even worse. So, I made my stir-fry with broccoli, hot dogs, onion, orange rind, beef broth and carrot. It was not so good. I think next time I’ll suck it up and by from one of the guys at the market. Now I know to search for the freshest looking cow head.

Wednesday morning was similar to Tuesday morning, ha ha, only this time I had breakfast before leaving now that I knew I had an hour and a half walk ahead of me. Only seven of the thirteen clients showed up; well, eight, but one of the guys wasn’t a Kiva client. Ernest and I interviewed him anyway and took his picture so he felt involved, ha ha. Once we got back to the office I typed up all the journals from the interviews we had just conducted. Then, after lunch, I finished all the business profiles to upload on the site next week. So, there will be about 30 new loans from GHAPE next week–should be exciting. During lunch I did my laundry, I am getting pretty good at scrubbing and washing clothes in a bucket. Ha ha. I don’t want to wash my work clothes like that though; I think I’ll take them to someone to wash properly. I only have about 4 shirts, so it shouldn’t be too expensive. All in all, it was a pretty productive day.

Well, it’ll be three weeks on Saturday since I’ve been here; generally the three week mark is when you are settled in and feel somewhat comfortable in your environment. It’s also the point when you find out what things you won’t get over. Everyday my list gets shorter, but the pigs and roosters that live right outside my bedroom window are one of those things I think. I hear the pigs all day in my room, in the shower, in the bathroom, snorting and grunting; their smell isn’t too great either. And the roosters, they are up at 4:30 doing their calls. It’s still dark, aren’t they supposed to go off when the sun rises? Most of the bugs in my place are gone, I did go a little crazy with bug killer spray and washing every night. But thankfully it got rid of most of the ants and cockroaches. Everyone says cockroaches scream when you step on them, but I’ve killed upwards of 8 or so now, and I haven’t heard anything close to a scream, just a crunch. The internet also drives me nuts, constantly losing my connection and reloading pages; I have been able to load most of my pictures onto my new photo site, jenmcq.smugmug.com so feel free to go and check all those out.

I have received some somewhat odd comments since I’ve been here and now that I have a few minutes, I think I’ll put some of them up before I forget them all. When I first got here, Loveline and some of the staff were asking me about my hair. They were wondering how I got it to this length. I didn’t really understand the question, so, I was demonstrating that I just cut it to this length. Loveline was like “oh, so you shaved your head, so it could be shorter?” No, I just cut it to the length I wanted it. Then the questions started flying, “well, why didn’t you just shave it and let it grow back?” “Why do you cut it that length if it will grow after?” “You are supposed to grow then shave it.” I didn’t really know how to respond, except with simply that “I wanted it to be this long, so I made it this long. Before it was to here [showing them my previous hair length], now it is here; if I want it a different length, I can just cut it or grow it.” They sat thinking about it for a while, and then asked a final question “so, you don’t wear wigs or extensions?” ha ha. Nope, just hair, real hair. I still don’t think they really got it by the end of our talk, but I didn’t really know what else to say about it: we cut and grow our hair, we change our hairstyles, and it’s real hair.

Halloween was also an interesting discussion with Vicky. We have planned to wear hats out for Halloween night tomorrow. I was trying to explain the reasoning behind Halloween, probably didn’t help that I don’t really know a whole lot about this history. I was talking about witches and England, and burning stakes and stuff; then moved to how people dress up as witches, black cats, ghosts and stuff. Apparently in the UK, everyone sticks to those costumes by the way. No imagination over there, ha ha, kidding. But then I was explaining how now, kids dress up as whatever they want, favourite princess, superhero, animal, anything, and they go to the doors of homes and say “trick or treat” to get sweets from people in their community. Then I continued with how once you were too old to trick or treat, you went to parties dressed up in costumes and celebrated with your friends. I should have just left it at hat night; she was overly confused. Her: “So, is it like a feast?” Me: “Um, not really…more like a celebration” Her: “Of the dead?” Me: “Not really, more just like a fun reason to dress up” Her: “so what do the costumes represent?” Me: “Um nothing really” [drawing on her new found love of entourage, I tried to make the connection] “some friends might decide to dress up as the four guys from entourage, each being a different character, wear the same clothes and moustache and stuff” Her: “oh.” ha ha. I think she started to understand how it works by the end, but I’m not sure she could wrap her head around why a whole continent would spend the time dressing up as strange characters for fun when they don’t represent anything of significance. Suppose it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense in the scheme of things. I didn’t dare go into any other examples of costumes, like slutty nurse, French maid, or playboy bunny; fairly certain she would have seriously questioned our cultural values…quite appropriately.

The other day I caught myself day dreaming at work about showers, cars, real food, and comfortable beds. Although I felt somewhat guilty considering the work I’m doing and the stories people tell me about their lives in our interviews, I made a fairly important decision. I believe in microfinance and its ability to seriously change the lives of the poor, and I want to work in this field for the near future; however, I don’t think I want to live in huts, or without electricity or a fridge or a shower. I like salads, lattes, showers, clean houses, mattresses, and pre packaged chicken breasts. Thankfully microfinance is spreading like wildfire and there isn’t really any work for westerners in the field here, it’s all making partnerships between western and local organizations or doing consulting, helping organizations overseas set up or become more efficient and helping western NGOs and banks efficiently assess and find partners. There are so many places in the world I want to see and experience; but I don’t think that I could live the life of a full time volunteer like so many of the VSO volunteers. They have been doing this their entire lives, they receive a monthly stipend to cover all their living expenses, but they are stationed in one place for about two years and do whatever their speciality is for that time with the overseas organization. Might be cool for a while, but I couldn’t do it forever. Nor do I have to to do what I want.

Thank you to everyone who has been sending me emails; I really appreciate it! I promise to reply soon!

my life updated

Tuesday was fairly eventful, I left my apartment by 6 am to meet Beatrice at the Mbengwi moto park on the other side of town. Within seconds of standing at the side of the road, a bike-taxi had stopped and we were haggling over prices. We agreed on 200 CFA (around 40 cents) for around a 15 minute ride. I met Beatrice at the park and we took another bike together to the GHAPE center. The center meetings usually start at 6:30 and run until 12:00 depending on how quickly the clients are able to organize their books and what not. It’s a pretty tedious process; however, it ensures that I’m given the time to do all my interviews.

I interviewed thirteen clients, all with just wonderful stories. One man, Thomas, who is the General Center Chief for the area is phenomenal. He gave some of his last loan to his son to continue his business of window framing and iron door installations. He no longer has to support his son and spent the rest of his loan on a motorbike to use as a taxi. He is making enough profits from taxiing, palm wine, and pigs to easily make his minimum payments and contribute to his personal savings account provided by GHAPE. After my interviews, the meeting still had not finished. People were coming over to chat to me and ask me questions, mostly about whether or not I was married, haha. One woman sat with me for about an hour asking me about Canada and discussing Cameroon. She was pretty sweet, told me I was very pretty for a “white man” and began referring to me as “smiley-smile”–apparently I smile a lot.

Its funny, Cameroon is the first developing country I’ve been to where everyone, no matter how much money they have, is concerned with fashion and appearance. Older women are always wearing fancy African dresses, usually hand made, with gorgeous fabric. All the younger women look like they just walked out of a fashion shoot; new jeans, fancy tops, high heels, they have it all. A lot of the younger women also have children, which they secure on to their backs using a piece of brightly coloured fabric and wrapping it around their chest–kinda takes away from the model look.

After the meeting, one of the clients split her lunch with the credit assistants and I; it was a sardine sandwich–sardines on white bread. Yum. No, it wasn’t bad, but I hadn’t eaten yet, so, perhaps that had something to do with it. The three of us, two credit assistants and I, hoped on a bike to town to get back to work. Once again, fitting four on a bike, no helmets, and me on the very back because of my backpack. I think I’ll start bringing a purse instead.

I finally sorted out my phone issues, well, I realized it is broken and nothing I can do. I did, however, purchase a wireless ‘ctphone’ for my room. It has much better reception, and for 20,000 CFA per month, $40 USD, I can have unlimited internet between 6 pm and 7 am. Considering all the work I need to load on the internet and what not, I splurged. You can hook 5 computers up to the hub, so I think I will donate it to GHAPE when I leave. The internet in the office is so unbelievably slow, and around the same price per month.

Wednesday was excessively long; however, it was also pretty exciting. In the morning Loveline and I met Thomas from Center 06 to go to Belo for the General Meeting at the new Belo branch. Currently there are two branches: Bamenda and Belo. The Bamenda branch has 16 centers and the Belo branch now has 10 centers. Although there is a huge demand for more centers in the area, GHAPE is constrained by a lack of funds. They are unable to add any more centers until they find a new source of funding.

Every center has an elected ‘center chief’ and ‘vice chief’. Together, they facilitate center meetings with the credit assistants from GHAPE, help clients to understand GHAPE policies, give incoming clients initial training, help to resolve disputes within groups and the center, and in general ensure smooth and successful delivery of credit, training, and skills.

All of the Center Chiefs and their Vice Chiefs were present at the meeting from the 10 centers in Belo, as well as the two credit assistants from Belo, Loveline, the General Center Chief from Mbengwi (John Foriben), General Center Chief from Bamenda (Thomas) and myself. The meeting began at 9 and ended at around 4; apparently one of the faster meetings they’ve had in a while. Thankfully I did not attend the earlier sessions, some of which ended past 9 pm. At the beginning of the meeting, the credit assistant wrote the rules for the meeting on the board: no eating, no sleeping, no unnecessary movement, hand up to talk, permission to use toilet, and phones on vibrate. Each of the rules was associated with a fine, for sleeping you were fined and had to stand for the rest of the meeting. It reminded me a lot of middle school classroom, ha ha. The meeting was really interesting though; all of the center chiefs discussed some of the largest challenges they were facing in their new centers and exchanged ideas on how to overcome these challenges. Some of these challenges were things like lateness and absenteeism from clients, clients dropping out after having training and replacement members having no training, and more members wanting to join than the center can accommodate.

About half way through the meeting, people started to look a little tired; Loveline decided we needed some stretching to wake us up. After a few stretches, we started playing a game similar to “Simon Says”, only the leader sings “What I do” to which we respond “don’t laugh”. Some of the moves Loveline had us do with her were jumping and clapping, kicking your feet in the air, a dance move similar to get low, and spinning in circles. It was really quite strange. I was just trying to imagine this sort of break happening at an equivalent meeting in North America; I imagine that most board members at local credit unions in Canada do play active versions of “Simon Says”, just to help everyone stay focused. Maybe it should be implemented, perhaps in the Senate; I think it could really lighten things up. At first I was thinking what the hell is going on here, are they kidding? But after a few moves, I was loving it, ha ha, I thought it was great; it definitely woke me up. Another thing I found strange was one of the women who was a center chief would pick her nose constantly when addressing everyone in the room to discuss challenges or solutions to the topic. She would stop mid sentence to look at what she had found, and then continue where she left off a few seconds later. No one else seemed to phased by it, but this was every time she spoke, not just once. It was really strange.

After the meeting, I hung out with Thomas and John until Loveline was ready to leave. The Board member who lives beside the center joined us for a beer, Guinness Smooth is the beer of choice for most here, and it is paired with ‘coloured nuts’. Coloured nuts are one of those things that I have decided are impossible to explain. I suppose the best I can do is to say they are very bitter, in the shape of mandarin orange slice, hard, bizarre texture, and light pink. I also had my first guava today, I’ve eaten the inside parts of guavas, but here they just bite right into them. The outer shell is extremely bitter, reminds me lime peels. The inside was sweet though. Thomas, John and I then bought some bbq’d beef on a stick with hot sauce. It was the first time I’ve had meat or beer since I’ve been here, and I can’t lie, even though the beer was warm and the beef was cold, it was among the best beer and beef I’ve had. Ha ha.

Thursday and Friday have been spent working, a lot. The MFI I’m with does not have a Management Information System, all of their files are kept in little notebooks and written by hand. All of their transactions and calculations are done three times by calculator–it is extremely inefficient; however, they don’t have the capital to invest in any sort of technological improvements right now. It has made training on the new internet site extremely difficult; their knowledge of finance and accounting is also limited. On the upside, there have not been any problems with power struggles or control that we had prepared for in training. Loveline is more than happy to let me train her staff and assign them tasks in any way that I feel will help them to understand the processes best. She has also been asking lots of questions through our one-on-one training that we have been doing for the past week; a very good sign that she is retaining the information and trying to understand. Loveline does most of the Kiva work here, so I think she was excited when I suggested we delegate some tasks to the credit assistants, ha ha. On Monday I will train the credit assistants on the new site and also on journaling and business profiles; we are hoping to have each one of them upload a profile and a journal in the first week of the change over so that everyone knows how it is done. Because the Kiva clients at GHAPE are dispersed through all the centers and each credit assistant is responsible for certain centers, all 5 credit assistants have to understand the process.

Last night I did take some time for myself. I went to a shop next door with Vicky and purchased one litre of palm wine. Palm wine is extracted from the raffia bush and poured straight into a bucket, no distillation or refining process necessary. I bought one litre for 150 CFA, approximately 25 or 30 cents. It was pretty good. It is brought in fresh every morning and begins to ferment throughout the day; apparently by evening it is too strong for a lot of people. It tasted like grapefruit cider, if there is such a thing; alcohol and grapefruit soda. Delicious.

On a more important topic, I found corn flakes the other day in the market. This morning I was so excited to finally have a bowl of cereal; however, I made a major mistake in my planning–no milk. I knew there was some powdered milk in Mama’s house, but not wanting to borrow some at 6 am, I looked for other options. I decided not to use my water, because it has a bit of a chlorine smell and taste to it–didn’t think it would mesh well. Also decided not to use palm wine, too early to start drinking on a Friday. The only other option was tea. So, I added some tea to my corn flakes, knowing it wouldn’t be great, but hoping for better than just dry. It was foul–completely and totally disgusting. After a few bites I got used to it though, and didn’t mind it too much. My food quality control really is dropping quickly; Christmas dinner is going to taste so delicious.

I also learned today that many people keep what are called Kane rats in their homes. They catch them from the bush when they are young and train them to live in their homes; when a door is open, a trained Kane rat will remain in the home. Kane rats grow to about the size of a small cat (not kitten–full grown cat), and are just rats as we know them. You keep the trained one till it is big enough, then one day, you decide you feel like rat for dinner and hey, look at that, you have one right here at home. I think that is one item I will pass on if offered. I also passed on cow skin the other night; that was more because they only had a little to share between five and I knew I would not enjoy it as much as they would. Cow skin is about half an inch thick and purchased in sheets around 2 or 3 inches on each side. The skin is soaked and cleaned with a knife to get dirt and hair off, then cooked in soup. Vicky told me it is one of her favourite foods; maybe I’ll try it later this month. I must say though, this is the first trip I am actually considering passing on some foods, I must be maturing.

Anyway, this update is quickly becoming a novel, so, I will leave it there. I’m hoping to get out of Bamenda this weekend and see a few things; there are lots of mountains and lakes around here so I’d like to check out some of those areas. I’ll be sure to update this with what I find.

Oct 19, 2008

I was starting to wonder whether I would need to use my paper journal for my personal use as I have been typing most of my journals at night and sending them out the next day.  But, never fear, the power is out once again.  It has been out all day, and for some reason when the power’s out there’s no water either.  Frou, my 10 year old neighbour boy, has told me that it happens almost every Sunday, but they try to have it back on by 5 or so.  Something to look forward to I suppose. 

 

I was up early this more and was able to just squeeze enough water out of the tap to do my laundry.  Laundry in Africa is always fun–full body workout.  Thighs and calves from squatting, abs for balance, biceps, triceps, shoulders and back for scrubbing all the red dirt stains off.  Who needs pilates dvds and electricity when you can do laundry?  Takes a long freaking time though.  I can’t imagine doing this every week for the rest of my life. 

 

I did, however, opt to do a big clean on my place.  I swept the floors with the traditional bristle type brush made from small, dried sticks.  Again, the squat position was required as I swept my way to the door.  Washing the floors was also a pretty tiring task.  You use a large dishtowel and scrub, then wipe it back and forth over as large an area as possible, all the time while doing the squatting walk.  My back is not feeling so hot now from being bent over scrubbing, sweeping, and washing all day.  Thank god for simple pleasures like washing machines, brooms and mops.  Ha ha.

 

Luckily, it was sunny today, so my clothes dried quite quickly outside.  It rains almost every night here right now, so you can’t leave your clothes out overnight.  Due to the lack of water, I couldn’t shower after my big workout, so I finished organizing my place and went outside to read and tan.  Frou and Vicky kept warning me that my skin would change colour if I sat in the sun.  Ha ha.  I kept insisting that I knew and had been in the sun before, and had experienced this ‘changing colour’ before.  I don’t think they believed me though, haha.  With the power out I could only do so much work, not so unfortunately.  I have almost finished all my journals though and will attempt once again to send everything tomorrow morning, depending on internet and electricity. 

 

I have been trying to plan out my weekends for my time here, but it is somewhat more difficult than I had expected.  Everything I wanted to do is so far from here because of the poor condition of the roads.  I may opt out of Mount Cameroon (the second highest mountain in Africa), which I planned to do right before I leave and go to Korup National Park instead.  I really want to see that suspension bridge they have there for some reason.  The picture just looks so neat, ha ha.  I would also like to go to Nkongsamba to see the crater lakes, but it is about a 4 hour drive from Bamenda and there isn’t really anywhere to stay there.  I’ll have to think about it some more, maybe ask Courtney if she has some ideas.  Courtney is one of the Peace Corps volunteers stationed here.  She has been in Cameroon since June.  I called her today but she had a meeting to attend, so hopefully we will be able to meet up tomorrow or Tuesday to chat. 

 

The power came back on just now, just a teaser though.  About four minutes of light, and now we are back to dark.  I don’t have any candles, something to remember for tomorrow.  Ha ha.  As soon as the lights came on, I was attempting to look for my bag of tea in my food cupboard when I discovered the cockroach hideout.  They were nestled under the large pot in my cupboard.  So, I grabbed a flip flop and started exterminating.  I got four of them for sure.  Just as I had the fifth one lined up, the power cut out.  The cockroach scrambled back to the cabinet, between my feet, just grazing my right foot.  Ugh, the noise of scuttling and feeling it on my bare feet….grosses me right out.  I held back the urge to scream, as mama was standing right at my door and would mock me for a few days at least if I did.  I’ll get him tomorrow.  I know the hide-out now. 

 

I hung out at the neighbours place until the lights came on, considering I have no candles or form of light, I would have just been sitting in the dark.  They offered for me to eat with them, but they never eat until about 9 or so at night.  I had my leftovers instead, a melange of cooked veggies such as cabbage, tomato, onion, and jalapeno…so really, just flavoured cabbage.  I can’t tell if I like the food here, or if I just have really low standards for food when I’m abroad.  I have a slight inkling it may be the latter. 

Oct 18, 2008

I was able to sleep in a bit this morning; although it didn’t really work out as planned and I was up and working by 7.  The office is open on Saturdays, but I am not required to go in to work.  But, being about four steps away and  considering all the profiles I need to type up, I went in for a while.  I ran down to the internet cafe at one point to try and send some files to my regional manager.  After waiting 15 minutes for one page to load, I gave up and asked for my money back.  Technology here really is frustrating.  My phone also won’t accept calls or let me dial out.  Tomorrow I need to figure something out.  I did, however, find a place nearby that has wireless internet.  There are a couple actually, but most are quite far from where I’m staying in Small Mankon.

 

After working for a while I went to hang out with mama and Vicky in the kitchen.  Its outside, they use it as a smoke house as well.  They cook their food in huge pots on a wood fire, not charcoal.  Today we made ‘foufou’–corn flour and water cooked and stirred together.  When its smooth and mushy, they start to place individual portions  in plastic bags.  The plastic bags keeps the foufou fresh so it doesn’t harden on top.  Then we made huckleberry soup to go on top of the foufou.  The name is somewhat deceiving; the huckleberry is similar to a more bitter and crunchy spinach.  We let the foufou cool before eating it, and it thickened up quite a bit during that time.  It reminded me a lot of a mushier polenta, minus the delicious cheese.

 

After cooking, Vicky and I went down to the market to pick up a few supplies.  On the way there CAMCCUL, a large credit union in Cameroon, was having its 40 year anniversary.  The streets were packed with people.  There were all different kinds of traditional dancing.  It was really neat to watch.  I got a few pretty good photos of some of the dancing. 

 

We then went into the market and bought some food and some cleaning supplies.  I found some peanut butter….well, its peanut paste.  Looks pretty good though and now I can start having peanut butter and bread for breakfast instead of leftover stew.  Even though I am getting used to eating dinner for breakfast, I really would prefer something a little more…western…to be honest.  Everything else I’m doing ok with in terms of culture.  I don’t mind the food, I just add a little extra jalapeno to everything and it ends up alright.  Cooking is a little…unsanitary….here though.  There are so many cockroaches and ants, it just grosses me out seeing one run across the table.  I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, showering outside, or cooking over a wood fire; I was even ok this morning when my bucket for showering had ants in it.  Just went with it, tried to get out the floaters and went on with the shower.  However, when it comes to cleanliness, I am a bit of a princess I guess.  I suppose not many people at home would call me a princess for not wanting cockroaches in my bedroom or kitchen, but here, they just laugh when I try to kill them.

We were back at home by around 4 and have just been hanging out watching entourage and now Pirates of the Caribbean.  All around, not a bad Saturday night I suppose.  

Complete Guide to Showering Outdoors:

At the young age of 22 I feel that I have become an expert in this field, experiencing outdoor showering in a number of cultures and having the opportunity to consult with extremely experienced outdoor showerers all over the world for tips and advice.  This blog will guide you through some of what I have found to be the most useful steps to having a comfortable and clean outdoor shower. 

 

Most of my experience stems from my childhood, growing up in Canada and spending summers in traditional campgrounds.  These campgrounds are a breeding ground for outdoor showerers, converting people to their ways at unprecedented rates.  With campground provided showers costing up to a dollar a minute, it is not surprising that so many are crossing over.  When in the field, the most ingenious outdoor shower I witnessed was a large black bag tied to a tree filled with water.  Mysteriously, this bag would somehow heat the water as it lay in the sun all day and provide the individual with a warm flow of water at shower head height.  The largest problem with this is that if you find yourself in a position where you must shower and have few supplies other than access to water, this option is rendered impossible.  However, my time in the field provided me with other options.  Such as the simple bucket-o-water approach.  This approach has transcended cultures and been spread throughout every continent.  The native campers are Hornby Island are one well known group promoting the bucket-o-water.  I have also observed variations of the approach in Kenya, throughout Tanzania, and Thailand. 

The first step is to locate a means of holding water; plastic buckets, pots, large bowls, and large containers are all sufficient.  Next, if you have access to some sort of fire, cook top, or hot coals, you can consider heating the water.  If not, simply pour the water into your bucket. 

 

The next step can be the most difficult, you must find a somewhat secure, private location.  Also, first timers, make sure to wear sandals and choose either a very dry patch of dirt or a dry grassy area to avoid mud.  Once you have found a location, strip down and put your clothes in a safe, dry spot.  Now you can get into a comfortable squat position which you will remain in for the majority of the shower.  You may choose to use the bucket for support if your legs are not 10 minute squat material.  Place your head over the bucket upside down and pour water over your head using the cup to wash your hair.  Do not attempt to place your whole head in the bucket, this will most likely result in a loss of balance and defeat the purpose of showering in the first place.  You can also use the cup to rinse your body and hair in this position.  You may choose to stand during this part of the shower; however, I do recommend taking into account both the wind speed and proximity to others when making this decision.

Shaving can be quite difficult in general, and I would recommend being very careful if you choose to remain in the squat position.  If you choose to stand, be on alert for passer bys, this sort of situation can be quite embarrassing for some.  Finally, when returning into the house, tent, or hut, make sure to walk slowly and carefully so as not to flick dirt up your freshly cleaned, shaven legs. 

Oct. 17, 2008

Today was an extremely busy day.  I woke up at around 5:30 to start getting ready to go to the field.  Had my lovely shower, ate some leftover stew, drank my tea and headed out to meet Loveline.  It took us much longer to get to Mbengwi than expected.  First we had to wait for the bank to open so that Loveline could do some transactions, but it wasn’t opening until 8:00.  So, we went to the market where Loveline said she had to pick something up; that something was bras and underwear.  So, for the next about 45 to 50 minutes I stood outside the shop in the market listening to her haggle with this woman over the price of bras.  We returned to the bank and she did her transactions and we were finally off by about 8:40. 

 

The first taxi took us to the taxi stand to go to Mbengwi.  Taxis and bikes are the only form of public transport in town.  It is quite strange, and always results in at least 8 or more people crammed into a tiny, shitty sedan–its nice, I just love that fresh B.O. smell.  The next taxi took us to Mbengwi, the roads were so awful.  Pot holes were all over, for the majority of the drive the car was on about a 45 degree angle with one wheel in the ditch because it was the flattest spot on the road.  It took about an hour or so to get to Mbengwi on that road.  The man beside me estimated that if it was paved, it would take under 15 minutes. 

 

When we reached the first center, Mile 19, they had already begun their meeting.  This area was much more rural than Bamenda, and this was largely reflected in both their income generating activities as well as the concerns they raised.  Most of the concerns were simply that after they have made their last payment, there is about a 2 month delay where they are unable to invest further, and business must halt.  This is especially pronounced for those investing in more long term investment plans such as pigs, where there is not always cash coming in from the business.

 

We took a bike over to the second center on the other side of Mbengwi.  It was really gorgeous there, tons of palm trees and vegatation, a huge valley, and green mountains around.  It looked very picturesque. 

 

At the second center I met a man named John Foriben.  He started as a farmer in cabbage, plantains, green spices, and maize.  He began to take out loans from GHAPE and was able to invest in water pumps and a tractor.  He requested a grant from the UNDP last year and was given 5,000,000 CFA (around $11,000 USD).  He now employs 12 people on the farm, all GHAPE members, and pays them in kind.  They are allowed to take crops from the farm both to provide for their families and to sell in the market.  He now has 4 customers who take his products to Gabon.  He makes around 800,000 CFA ($1700 USD) per month.  A huge amount in this area.  His wife and children were there, cracking open palm nuts to make palm oil, and for a snack.  The daughter, who was just a baby, maybe 10 months or so, was cracking open the nuts with a rock and giving them to me to eat.  It was quite cute.  I really enjoyed interviewing all the clients and learning about their lives.  It truly was interesting to get to know the everyday lives of people, to understand their hopes for the future, and to see their high level positivity and appreciation for their loans.  They sing three times a session, and I just love hearing the last song, the GHAPE anthem.  It’s all about raising themselves out of poverty, becoming educated, and maintaining healthy lifestyles.  Very holistic approach. 

 

The GHAPE Anthem

 

All around the Nation

All across the World

The poor are longing to be free

 

Chorus:

Free from chains of poverty

Free from ignorance

Free from chains of HIV/AIDS

 

Strategies must be adapted

To lived realities

For the empowerment of the poor

 

(Chorus)

 

With GHAPE EC formula

A source for Liberation

The poor shall be set free

 

Say goodbye to poverty

Goodbye to ignorance

Goodbye to HIV/AIDS       

 

It is unquestionably one of the more inspiring jobs I’ve had in a while.  Kenya and Tanzania were great, but not like this.  It’s different when a woman tells you that simply having access to credit has completely changed the status of her family.  That a loan has created enough extra profit to pay for her children’s school fees, medical expenses, and provide balanced meals; three expenses that many families are unable to afford. 

 

We took a bike from the center to the taxi stand.  We fit four people on a dirt bike; something I had previously thought would be impossible.  But no.  It was a bit tight, but fine.  I got the lucky spot at the back of the bike because of my backpack; I was sitting on the grate at the back.  At first I was a little concerned about not being on the seat, but after a couple minutes I was distracted by the scenery and taking videos.  Ha ha.  I have seen very few people with helmets here.  Even the bike drivers go without, they opt for weird toques instead.  One guy in town has a grey toque with a bunny head on top and a pom pom, ha ha, I want to get a ride with him at some point, ha ha.

 

When we got back into the office, we found out that the electricity had been out for the entire day for all of Bamenda.  When I asked when it would be back on, everyone shrugged; last month it was out for a week, for no reason.  Bizarre.  I hope that doesn’t happen while I’m here.

 

The technician that GHAPE uses has been trying to help me fix my phone and set up internet on my computer through my phone.  So he came over to help me for a bit after work.  We tried a million and one things, but nothing worked.  I may have to pick up a new phone soon; I can’t handle the frustration. 

By the time I got into bed, I realized I hadn’t eaten since my stew at around 6 am.  I think the heat may have gotten to me after standing in the sun all day interviewing people.  I’ll just have to start remembering to eat I suppose.

October 16, 2008

Well, after a long first week of work, I think its safe to say that I am completely in love with GHAPE.  The way that they operate just amazes me.  I have now been to 3 different centers, the ones today were over an hour and a half on less than optimal roads, and interviewed 15 clients.  Every client is so appreciative and excited about the future, it has been extremely inspiring.  Especially when you take into account the conditions that most of these clients are living in; most of them during the interview complained of serious theft or illness.  Yet, every one of these people managed to have their payments in on time and attend all the meetings.  I was surprised at how many activities these clients use for income generation; a pig farmer will most likely use the manure for her garden where she grows coco yams, cassava, potatoes, green spices, cabbage, or other vegetables.  She will sell these products as well as make some staple foods from them and sell them on the road or at the market.  She may also be making hair nets at night to sell.  The list goes on and on, it just depends on how many questions you ask. 

 

The cost of living here is really cheap.  I think its fair to say that I am living on less than $2 a day right now.  I bought groceries yesterday, enough for 5 meals or so, it cost me two dollars.  That included a whole fish, a bag of yams, 6 tomatoes, onions, bag of beans, bag of corn, bag of plantains, and jalapenos.  Pretty cost effective.  I’m hoping to upload some photos tonight, but in a lot of them you’ll see my ‘mama’.  We were making achu last night, you cook cocoyams and plantains, then grind them together and mash them.  Cocoyams are….like a potato…but….have more flavour….i guess.  Hard to describe.  They are good though.  After you make the mash, you cook a yellow soup from beef broth, spices, palm oil and, get this, cow skin.  Yea, she was cleaning cow skin with a knife, oh it made me cringe.  Its a delicacy over here, gross.  And in case you are wondering when looking at the photos, yes, mama is wearing a Britney Spears t-shirt, but its from her early days, ha ha.  Palm oil is the main cooking oil here, they make it from palm nuts, which I was able to eat more than enough of today in the field.   I met a woman who makes palm oil, and her daughter decided it would be fun to crack them out of the shell and keep giving them to me to eat.  When I refused one after about the tenth, she started crying.  So, I kept taking them, filling up my pockets with all these palm nuts, ha ha.  They are pretty good though.

 

My nights here are getting somewhat more eventful.  One of mama’s grand-daughters is 25 and I invited her over to watch entourage last night.  She loved it, ha ha, wouldn’t leave until we finished the first season.  She has prison break, so we decided we’re going to start watching tv together at night.  She is also trying to get me to watch a Nigerian movie, apparently they are pretty good.  Maybe tonight…crazy Friday night. Ha ha.

Welcome to Bamenda

So, now that I have a bit more time I’ll tell you about my long, long, long journey to Bamenda. Everything in terms of flights and security went fine. I arrived in Douala only about 30 minutes late, and customs was surprisingly relaxed considering the strict attitude the embassy carries. Anyway, at this point I’m starting to sweat quite a bit; it was around 30 plus degrees and extremely humid. I was somewhat overdressed in my lululemons, long sleeve t shirt, sweatshirt, and rain jacket. But I didn’t want to strip everything off in case my bag came on the carousal and for some reason I figured it wouldn’t take all that long. Then, people started pouring in from our flight, which was apparently a lot larger than I had noticed. People were pushing and shoving; I’ve noticed African cultures can be especially bad with this, just completely knock you at any time. Got to keep your eyes up and on the game. After I had watched a decent number of bags pass on the first carousal, I noticed that some random bags were appearing on this bag cart at the other end of the baggage claim area. One guy was left in charge of ordering the miscellaneous bags. Immediately everyone made a b-line for the new bags. Bags were being thrown over top of people’s heads, people were screaming at each other, and this one guy attempted to quietly order the bags. It was a gongshow. There were a few white people in there, all older, chubby french speaking men. All of them had cigarettes lit and were trying to get into the action. I wasn’t really sure what to do so I just walked back and forth between the two trying to see my bag. Then, the other large carousal started up with our flights bags as well. I thought for sure that whoever was waiting for me from GHAPE would be gone at this point.
The action continued for at least another 35 minutes until I finally spotted my bag and chased along beside it for some time before anyone would let me in to the inner circle. I took a second to get myself situated and attempt to balance all of my gear before heading towards the exit, where customs control was situated. Bags were open, with all the contents flying everywhere; it was not a line up I was looking forward to, haha. I got in behind this awful African businessman, he was a real jerk. He had a huge cart and was knocking over everyone with it, pushing people out of the way just by running into them with this metal cart. I was glad to be behind him. Customs control didn’t stop me, thank god. As soon as I stepped outside into the mass of people, I saw a small, young woman, holding a sign that said GHAPE/KIVA. I was so relieved.
Loveline is about my height, 5′3″ and only 26 years old. She is in charge of GHAPE. She seems extremely dedicated and was so welcoming. Her brother met us there and so that we didn’t have to pay the high price of airport taxis, we walked for about ten minutes up the road. That doesn’t sound bad, but try it with a huge backpack, two carry ons, no sleep, and sweating like crazy. I was…exhausted. We finally caught a taxi, and Loveline informed me that we would be staying with her brother in Douala for the night and taking the bus in the morning so that we could rest. I thought that sounded great, I could have a shower before bed, relax, go to bed early. Not so much. Her brother lived outside Douala, and not like the Suburbs, more the slums. His home was attached to 4 other homes that all shared a common courtyard in the center. The walls were made from part cement part wood and the roof was tin and hadn’t been put on properly because there were cracks and holes everywhere. I was still hoping for a shower though. Not so much, but they did have a latrine, shared between all the neighbours. The center courtyard, about the size of an average living room was completely covered in laundry that had been placed out to dry. There was a dog on a very short leash in the corner that continued to bark the entirety of my stay. In the back corner was the latrine. It smelled foul, and was a very tiny whole, which meant high chance of error, which explained a great deal of the foul smell. As soon as I went for it and got in the squat position, I of course couldn’t go. I love how the body does that sometimes. So there I am gagging, trying to think about waterfalls and streams, and begin to wonder how I did this everyday last summer. The smell was no worse. I think I just got used to my life with clean toilets and disinfectant. At first this thought was somewhat comforting, realizing that I’ll probably be used to all this again in a few days. But then, the wheels turned a little further; do I really want to be used to this smell and mess? I don’t think so. I asked Loveline if there were toilets and showers where I was staying as soon as I got out of the ‘washroom’. She promised there were.
I ended up babysitting a 6 month old kid for some reason until I went to bed. I wasn’t really sure who’s kid she was. A large black woman who didn’t speak english or french brought her in and put her in my lap and walked out, it was somewhat strange. Loveline came back and said she would find the mother. She came back without the mother and said she’d take the child for a while. It was all very bizarre.
That night I slept maybe two hours. Constantly tossing, turning, itching mosquito bites, and sweating. I was so overtired it was really frustrating to be awake all night thinking about nothing really of importance, trying to dream about Christmas and New Years, ha ah.
We headed over to the bus stop at around 7:30 am. The bus was supposed to leave at 8, so that is when we grabbed our seats and began waiting. It wasn’t until 11:37 that we finally left. Another scorching day spent sitting, sweating, and waiting. The bus ride was quite beautiful, the countryside reminds me a lot of Tanzania. It is so lush and green, very tropical. There are so many trees here; palm trees, mango trees, and trees with huge bright flowers in them. It was gorgeous. Unfortunately, I still have yet to see a single white person; I saw one albino at the bus stop and got really excited, but no. I want to meet some other travellers around here to do my weekend trips with and stuff; I think I’ll try and find out if there is a Peace Corps unit here.
When we finally arrived in Bamenda, at around 5:30, we went straight to the office. It is on a dirt road outside of town, and a little run down looking from the outside. But I was welcomed by almost all of the staff and given hugs by everyone. They were all super excited to see me. I am staying in what could be classified as the back yard of the office. It is a house with a separate unit which has a bedroom and sitting room. I can walk through the main house from my unit, to get to the back door where I found a toilet! It is a little gross, and outdoors, and I’m not allowed to use it after 9, but I can sit (if I wipe it down first) and flush. Haha. The shower is also outside, and, well, I suppose I’ll be getting used to things again.
The house I am living in is attached to another family’s home. I thought there were only 5 or so of them, but every time I go in there I meet someone new. I think I’ve met about 9 people so far; hopefully they just had some guests over. Ha ha. When the mama met me, she was ecstatic. It was hilarious, she came over and picked me up and starting jumping. Keep in mind this woman is in her late seventies or early eighties and about my height and size. Then she stopped, slapped me on the side of the head and yelled “jump, jump, jump”. Apparently she had tired of picking me up and jumping with me. So, in the middle of a circle of people, we just jumped up and down for about four minutes or so. Yea, somewhat awkward I’d say. She is very kind though, and always laughing. She doesn’t speak any English or French, so the conversation isn’t too stimulating, but, nice to know the neighbours. She made me dinner last night, spicy black beans with a bit of rice. Surprisingly delicious, considering the look of it, ha ha.
I had a quick shower before bed, or to better describe it, I boiled a pot of hot water and went outside to clean up for the first time in about 4 days. I think going for four days without made this one seem a little nicer than reality. It was quite cool, and I had no light, ha ha, so it was interesting to say the least. But I felt clean. Apparently this area is quite dangerous, so I have two 2×6 boards that I put across the door into metal slots to ensure no one breaks in. Pretty intense looking.
This morning I was up at 4 just thinking, I don’t think I’m used to the time change yet. I just waited until work started at 7:30. It was a rather long morning. But it did give me a chance to prepare a few topics for a meeting and start to brainstorm about GHAPE. We had our meeting this afternoon and it went surprisingly well. I am going to stay here until around November 15, then go to the new office in Belo for my second month. It will give me a chance to make sure that everyone here knows how to use the new website for Kiva and work on a few marketing and fundraising options with Loveline. Tomorrow we are going to start creating Staff profiles for the website I am going to attempt to make for GHAPE. Hopefully the website will be able to help GHAPE bring in some more funds, their largest obstacle. We will be preparing some letter templates that she will be able to send out to potential donors and will direct them to the website. I am excited to see how it all goes.
I am looking forward to seeing GHAPE expand and helping them to reach more clients; all of the staff work very hard and are extremely committed to helping their clients and alleviating poverty. It is refreshing to see a group of people in a place like this working towards improving the lives of others. There are even two volunteers here at the center, which greatly surprised me.
Tonight I had dinner with my mama/neighbour. She came in while I was on the phone and sat down on my couch without invitation. As soon as I had hung up the phone she demanded tea. So, I made her some tea, and apologized that I didn’t have any milk or sugar. She gave a disappointed look before chanting ‘spoon, spoon, spoon’. After listening to her slurp up her tea and sitting in silence for some time, she began laughing hysterically. I’m still not entirely sure why, but I laughed with her, well, maybe at her, for about 5 minutes. She brought me some soup, groundnut and cocoyam soup with spices; it looked a lot like mud, but was pretty good. As we were about to eat, she just about snatched the spoon out of my hand, apparently we were to pray before eating. So we prayed. Then, a few minutes into our soup, she sang, mostly Catholic hymns. She is such a nut. Pidgin sounds very similar to extremely broken English, so I can catch the gist of what she says a great deal of the time. A lot of the time I just smile and nod though, and wonder why she is laughing hysterically again. She kept pointing to the boards and my new deadbolts (yes, plural-they installed two deadbolts in addition to my 2×6 boards and regular lock today), making sure that I understand the importance of locking up. Not exactly sure what the danger is, but, the level of attention paid to it freaks me out quite a bit. I’m definitely using all five forms of locks, haha. Tomorrow I am helping her make pumpkin soup. I like this place, lots and lots of soup.

On a slight aside, I just remembered now that I am in the internet cafe, apparently it is really common for Cameroonians to scam Westerners by selling dogs over the internet. Super random. I noticed that everyone in here is always looking at dogs and asked about it at work. They told me it is a serious problem that the government is trying to crack down on, ha ha. So, watch out, don’t buy your next yorkie from Cameroon, it probably won’t show up in the mail.