Monday- April 6^th:  It’s Monday evening after day one of our second class session. So two Cameroonians, a Nigerian and a white guy walk into a bar…. There’s no punch line, we just walked into a bar. Well, not really a bar but a balcony restaurant overlooking the teeming highway. It’s really an experience to be in Mutengene doing as the locals would do, not ferried around by a guide in an air conditioned vehicle. I bought the group some drinks. Not cold, but room temperature, which means 85 degrees here. I listen hard to their mix of pidgin and English and my ears are finally starting to catch up as is my fake Cameroonian accent. Miraculously it helps them understand me. It’s easy enough to imitate the way someone talks as long as it’s not truly another language. I’m sure I sound like an idiot but it’s fun to try. Even passing at almost highway speeds and with me a story above the street, people in cars and motorcycles pick me out and stare at me like my head is on fire. It’s so funny. I just wave and cope with the fact that they could see me from space probably. I guess they’re honest enough to stare.

The Nigerian in the story is a Malaysian and Kenyan University trained dermatologist. He is in town staying at our training center and working shifts at the local hospital to teach the other docs how to treat the myriad, exotic skin conditions that exist in this country. I have one of those conditions currently. My itchy eyes developed welts and blisters across my eyelids and corners. Dr. John from Nigeria told me I am having an environmental allergic reaction and that he will go to the laboratory and make a cream to fix it. I haven’t seen the cream yet but I have cortisone and Benadryl which is working. I complained to the Welty’s about some small bites I was finding in the morning upon waking. They diagnosed it as bed bugs. Not uncommon here, especially in transitory housing like ours. There isn’t a night these beds aren’t used. They have a full house keeping staff that keeps us comfortable with clean towels, sheets and pesticide. I sprayed everything down, moved rooms then did laundry in scalding hot water followed by ironing. Then I sprayed down the whole closet and new bed with deet. I’m told that will do the trick. So far so good. They don’t have good enough electrical current to operate dryers here so they are non-existent. You have to hang your clothes outside (tricky in rainy season) then iron them. They iron everything- socks, underwear, everything. The ironing kills the fly larvae that are deposited on line-dried materials. The larvae burrow into an unsuspecting wearers skin then have to be extracted later.

 



Common form of mass transit. We taught a session on triage for highway accidents for this reason.



 

4.6% national HIV/Aids rate. Huge public awareness and education has dropped this from over 10% with less transmission to newborns.



Morning arrives too soon as we prepare for the second class to begin. This time we have the assistance of Manjong Denis, a driver who we are proctoring to be a future trainer. It’s good he’s here because it’s hard for the students to understand our dialect and, it turns out, 30 drivers decided to show up instead of the 15 we requested. So Cameroon is the largest American thrift store on the planet. The streets and markets are replete with make-shift booths hocking used slogan T-shirts and interpretations of what we would wear at home. It is so awesome. I laugh out loud every day at some of the stuff I see. I was talking to Gilles, a housekeeper, who was wearing a vintage Public Enemy shirt. I asked if he was a “supporter” of the group and he just laughed uncomfortably while pointing to his black t-shirt repeating “pooblik inime, pooblik inime.” No clue. The best was when Denis arrived big and proud to be a trainer of his peers. He was looking sharp and important in his ironed, bedazzled jeans and a khaki sport jacket opened just to proudly display his black and chrome emblazoned t-shirt proclaiming “World’s Greatest Mom.” I couldn’t suppress laughing out loud then I tried to convince him that I was impressed with his “dress.”

Denis, I'm sure you would be the World's Greatest Mom. Miss you already!

I'm not following the connection?

 



Denis is a natural teacher though he was a bit overzealous, immediately straying off of the subject matter in his PowerPoint and launching into the entire point of the course. I had to interrupt his lecture to reign in his genuine enthusiasm. He did his very best but we ended up two hours behind schedule which compressed day two and allowed less time for hands-on practice. I was guilty of the same disregard of schedule though. 

 



Invite 15, you get 30!



 



Slow down Denis, it's just the intro! A natural born teacher.
 



Old hat for Paul. He has been here two weeks longer than I and taught trauma care to nurses in Bamenda, a town to the northwest. He's also done this twice in Haiti.

 

 



My solution to the question "what if your vehicle doesn't have seatbelts?" I give you, the Cameroonian seatbelt!



 

That evening, Professor Pius Tih Muffih, the director of the entirety of the vast CBC Health Services, arrived at the Welty house to stay and work with them. It’s a big deal that Pius is here. Even the Governor of the Southwestern province we are in comes to pay his respects to Prof Tih, as he is known here. He is the godfather. Dr. John the dermatologist and the head driver, Edwin came with Pius. Paul and I were summoned to meet Prof so we of course hurried to house five. Pius is immediately recognized as a humble man with amazing charisma and oozing leadership. I liked him straight away. He graciously accepted my thanks for his invitation to Cameroon which landed me a Visa in four days flat. Edwin, Dr. John, Denis and I headed to the Baptist hospital in Mutengene to run an errand then found our way to the previously mentioned restaurant. I had a late supper at the compound with Benadryl for dessert.

 



Housekeeper, Gilles, unloading Pius' supply of papas or papaya. He has a Public Enemy t-shirt.
 



Nicoline's (right) cousin, in the yellow, is a tailor. We walked by her shop/house in Mutengene on the way to the hospital and met her and her understudies. Nicoline has her cloth made into dresses by her cousin for 3500 cfa or around $6. If tailors can barter to keep any trimmings of fabric they can make clothes and sell them for extra money.





Baptist Hospital Mutengene. Dr. Ndasi's surgical theatre is in the new building on the right. They see frequent cases of measles encephalitis, polio, malaria, etc. and have public education campaigns on getting children vaccinations. Just think, it's a luxury here. A 4 year old of one of the drivers died today of sudden, unknown causes. He took the child's body and drove 8 hours to Bamenda so his family could mourn and have a burial. I've seen many people who are suffering from polio-related handicaps - something I never thought I would see.

 



Tuesday, April 7^th: We opened class this morning with a prayer as we do every day. The students are again electric about their new skills and anticipation of practicing on each other. Denis is ready to teach bleeding control and shock management wearing his freshly minted McCall Fire Department t-shirt, a downgrade from his mother’s day proclamation. We are told that our class made it on the local news with footage and our unscheduled interview. People in town are expressing interest in attending the class but 30 is double our limit and practical skills lab is impossible with all of Mutengene in the room. We get back on schedule; have some sage words from Dr. Ndasi then proceed with a more well-organized graduation. Because we don’t have thirty 1^st Aid Kits to distribute, the battle began over which driver was the more deserving candidate for the tarp roll and coveted headlamp. We left this to Dr. Ndasi.

 

 

 

Hilda and Nicoline practicing in traditional African "dress." The fabrics here are fun to see.

 





My driver from the airport, Stephen. They were then instructed not to wrap this way.



 

We call this the "ski patrol lift." Having no idea what ski patrol is, I renamed it the basket lift.

 



 



skills practice day 2



 

 

Wednesday, April 8^th: After a rather American breaky of pancakes with maple syrup, papaya and coffee, Paul and I hitch a ride with Edwin to Beau, the gateway town to Mt. Cameroon. We climb 1800 ft in elevation and find the town cool and refreshing with a large and reputable university. The mountain looms over the town and its Palatial President’s “cabin” like an Emperor Penguin protecting its egg on its feet. On the other side of the mountain from this town there are a sparse few mountain elephants and likely a group of gorillas hidden in its impressive bulk. We make a quick drive around the loop road at the highest part of the town to take in the view then head to the hospital to pick up six people, including the Weltys and Pius, from the hospital. They were cleaning house of a few bad staff doctors and nurses extorting patients for money. We made a quick stop at the ecotourism office to get information on guided climbs on the mountain. A day trek to Hut Two is around $40 US. There is a marathon from Beau to the top and back, just over 24 miles with over 9000 ft of elevation gain. It happens the second week of February and costs $16 to enter. Bucket list! A woman won the race something like five years straight and the government built her a new house for her final victory.

 

 

 Upon returning to the complex, Paul and I had lunch with Pius teasing me about my inability to eat “pepe.” We kidnapped Gladys from the kitchen for an hour to hit the big market in Mutengene for some souvenirs. That night we were invited to Dr. Ndasi’s personal residence for dinner. I was expecting to drive into Limbe, the beach town where he was rumored to live, but instead we turned just off the squalor of highway at mile four, a local landmark and roadside marketplace. We opened a gate manually and pulled up to a very humble rental flat with a dirt parking area and found Dr. Ndasi eagerly awaiting our arrival. We were welcomed to his leather couches in a nicely appointed but humble house. His wife, Olivia, sister, Ken, and three boys; Jason, Ethan and Allan were raucously playing and enjoying Pius’ company. African top-40 was playing in the background and a lavish spread was laid out on the table. Rice, bread, ndole with beef hide, fish, chicken, spicy white beans and fresh avocado and tomato salad with dressing were heaped on plates. Henry’s wife and children visited each of us on the couch with a pitcher of water, spray bottle of soap and a bowl. They poured water while we washed and their middle son offered us towels. Such servitude. While eating, Henry refilled our glasses with Coca Cola “for the Americans.” Dessert was the best fruit salad ever made in crystal cocktail goblets. Classy guy that Henry Ndasi.

 

 



The WAY overworked kitchen and housekeeping staff. Left to right: Nicoline (course logistics), Erica (background), Gladys (kitchen supervisor), Annette (who Sailor chatted with on Facetime)



Annette chopping okomobong leaves for ndole.



 

 

Fellow Seahawker



It's a good thing I like fish



Sailor's bracelets were a popular graduation token. Red for unity, yellow for savannahs of the North and Green for the forests of the South.

Beau (pronounced boy-ah) and Mt. Cameroon

I laughed about this one. They have some crazy names for their businesses!

The FBI has dispatched a lot of agents in Cameroon apparently.

The Obama Restaurant with American and Cameroonian flags on the sign.

This is why they don't let people hike or run Mt. Cameroon without a guide. 10 ft. high elephant grass obscures the "trail."







 

Don't let them tell you they're not hot! Pepe in Mutengene market.

Fast and the Furious garage, Cameroonian style. Looks stable enough I guess.

View of Mt. Cameroon on the Limbe road to Dr. Ndasi's.

View from his porch

Washing Professor Tih's hands before our generous dinner with the Ndassis. Ethan (left), Jason and Henry's sister Ken.



Easter in pictures

Easter Sunday- Mutengene, Cameroon

Easter is a big deal in Cameroon which is a nation of Christ followers. They have morning devotions daily here at the training center with music and Bible study. It's full every day! All of the finest cloth and "dress" (word is used universally as clothes) comes out. I don't know how they wear so much white here because the streets are awful and dirty and when it rains it's a mud-fest, but nevertheless, they are pressed and white all the time. Every article of clothing is ironed here to prevent nasty parasites. Apparently there is a type of fly that lays its eggs in the fabric of clothing hung out to dry- which is everything. If you don't iron them the eggs end up on your skin and the larvae hatch and burrow into your flesh. The remedy is to put Vaseline on the site and they begin to suffocate so they surface just long enough to grab them and pull them out. Not messing with that- I'll iron my socks, that's cool.

We dressed up and prepared to drive the 10 minutes to Quarter 6 (neighborhood 6) to attend Life Baptist Church as invitees of our head cook, Gladys. Her husband is a church leader. They don't have children of their own but they took in four distant relative children that needed homes. This type of charity is why adoption is rare from Cameroon. The storm that hit that morning was as close to a hurricane as I'll ever see. Everyone else said no big deal, it's like this all the time during rainy season. We couldn't go outside. We missed the 0900 start of services and considered not going at all when we were more than 1/2 hour late. We persisted though and tried to pick our way through the "roads" into the neighborhood. We have far better ATV trails than these neighborhoods have roads. We did our best to not get the truck stuck and nearly took the oil pan off a couple of times. We arrived in the quarter to find Gladys in a beautiful, traditional and hand sewn, golden African outfit, standing on the side of the road in pumps waiting for our arrival. She told us "Ees good you came because my Pastor would have said I was a liar! I told heem you would come." She hopped in and we parked at church to find everyone else had waited out the storm as well so, in true, practical Cameroonian fashion we were on time. White people do not visit these neighborhoods let alone attend church services-ever. Paul and I were instantly bombarded with children who pulled our elbow skin, touched our hair, climbed in our laps, hugged us and took selfies with our phones then were surprised to see their own face. I wondered if they'd ever seen themselves before. We tried not to be a distraction. No one noticed for the dancing, singing and praising that was going on. Gladys instructed us to dance. So we did and she laughed at us. Paul is such an amazing sport about things and is always open to experience. He has no rhythm though so we were the white guys not clapping with everyone else. I'm sure they were all confused. Service was long, especially on the crudely fashioned plank benches bunched too close together. They had a choir festival and competition that day for five groups. Each did five songs each. Do the math. We had to dance to avoid blood clots from sitting for that long. It was one of my fondest experiences. The instruments, the voices, the dancing and the true, true worship of God from people with so much less than we all have in the states was humbling. The party spilled into the muddy streets as service ended. They played drums and shakers and bells and sang and danced their way around quarter 6 with huge smiling faces. They also made us talk in church:)

After church we drove to Tiko, a market town, to have lunch. Fish, rice, ndole (green spinachee dish) and pampelmouse, or grapefruit juice, to drink. That morning I woke up to very itchy eyelids and the beginnings of swelling. Enough to see my eyelids from the corners of my eyes. It got worse as the day went on. I started feeling flush, feverish, dizzy and my vision was getting a little altered. Edie said, "Oh, I hope you don't have malaria! You shouldn't stay up so late with your light on working on your computer." Point taken. She gave me some cortisone which made it bearable. I took Benadryl and passed out for the night after eating some bread from a local French boulangerie with Denis. My AC went on the fritz and poured water on my computer so I jumped up to a disaster at about 1am. I went back to sleep with a swollen face, itchy eyes, sweating and praying that the mosquito net was enough to keep me malaria free for the last couple of hours of sleep. Please God, don't let me have malaria. Happy Easter!

Catching up

April 8, 2015:  I’ve missed so many days of updates due to time constraint and internet “if-iness” that I want to post a bulleted timeline of key experiences. It’s remarkable how much you can learn about a culture when you jump in with both feet. I’ve really gained a good perspective on life in Cameroon and have fun trying to imitate their “dialect.” It makes them laugh- I’m sure AT me but I’m cool with that;)

Today was a day off of class though Paul and I met with several of our trainers that we are proctoring to carry the program on in our absence. Most are surgical and clinical nurses from around Cameroon. They took the first course then traveled many hours back here from their homes to teach for an hour or two with Paul and I observing. We stole some time to travel to Beau about 20 minutes away. It is the gateway to Mt. Cameroon and the start/finish of the Mt. Cameroon mountain run that happens each February on the second weekend. It cost 10,000 francs to enter or about 17 bucks. The town is beautiful and the massive edifice of this impressive landmass, Mt. Cam, towers over everything. Edwin, our driver today and student of ours, says "somedays the mountain feels very close to your eyes!" There is a real university here and the President has a German built "cabin" and presidential offices for his frequent visits. He had a stadium and his own causeway built to make public addresses and accessing his property more convenient. We drove back to Mutengene with nine adults riding in the Land Cruiser. We picked up six of them at the hospital in Beau where they had a meeting.

Lunch today was called ekwong. It is a ground yam paste wrapped in a dark green leaf and cooked in a sauce until the consistency of overcooked ravioli. Served with rice of course. Paul loved it. It was unique with an iron and earthy flavor and okra-like texture. Paul and I went to the big market in Mutengene afterwards but Gladys the cook wanted to guide us so we wouldn't get "robbed on the price." I did some negotiating and ended up with a soccer jersey for the Cameroon national team, the Indominitable Lions, for $3.50. The fabrics are fun to look at. We followed that with a quick game of 3 on 3 basketball with our volleyball friends back at the compound. We then headed to Dr. Henry Ndasi's house for dinner with his family and Professor Pius Tih (pronounced Pious Tee). Quite an experience and a great honor to have a meal with these two prominent and revered Cameroonian leaders. Also I learned that they don't wear much or make leather here because they eat it. I had "beef hide" for dinner. It tastes and chews like you'd expect. Everything else was wonderful! Thanks Dr. Ndasi

 

Catching up with a recap

Monday, March 30^th: I departed for Cameroon with a long stop in Minneapolis. Sorry Jay, no stop at the Senator Craig memorial bathroom stall. Endured the Mall of America.

Tuesday, March 31^st: Woke up in Paris and Texans at the airport headed for oil town of Malabo, Cameroon. Meet Manjong Denis and driver Stephen at Douala airport. Drive to Mutengene in rush hour.

Wednesday, April 1^st: Meet Dr. Ndasi and prepare for inaugural CBC Good Samaritan 1^st responder course. There are 16 students and a few more sit-ins including a local journalist who learned about the project via coconut telegraph. He asked for an interview to describe the project and course material. He recorded it on a ten year old Sony Handicam. At lunch I was adventurously eating and had my first encounter with “pepe” or hot pepper sauce. Seriously freaking hot. Ruined my yam with it. Dr. Ndasi ate it for me. Ran the farm road and met “old Ma’am” who ran with us! Paul and I went to Welty’s “house 5” to organize supplies and assemble kits and headlamps.

Thursday, April 2^nd: They have devotions in the chapel/classroom every morning here at the complex. It also serves as a bit of a town meeting. Paul, the Weltys and I attend and are invited up individually to introduce ourselves and say a few words. Students are opening up on the second day of class and are buzzing with excitement at their new skills. They are eager to practice on us and each other throughout the day. We had a ragtag graduation ceremony that they all walked away from beaming. Everyone is fascinated by headlamps. They’re told to keep them in their “pidgeon hole” or glove box as we know it. We have a big lunch that is popular with the drivers: fufu corn, jama jama, fish head and a banana. Tom Welty, Paul and I walk the 10 minutes to Mutengene to find a cold beverage. We end up at the “opinion house” which looks about as reputable as a Vegas truck stop like all of the other establishments in Mutengene. We actually found cold drinks though and sat to enjoy. It dawned on us that we may be at a brothel. The Welty’s have primarily worked with the HIV/Aids epidemic and OB/Gyn/Childbirth care in their 17 years. They’ve studied HIV/Aids population which was about 10.5% when they started and is now around 4.6%. The “free women” percentage is 50%! HIV/Aids affects less than 1% of the population of America. We walk home in the dark and make it alive, even running into an acquaintance on the way.

Good Friday, April 3^rd: After an unexpected French toast and scrambled egg breakfast, I walk up the road to house 5 to find the grounds staff climbing the mango trees and shaking fruit loose to the ground. About 30 % of the fruit survives and they give us a large box full. They saw that I had pick the two worst mangoes on the tree and were politely correcting me by giving me 50 good ones. The tree is on U.S. soil at the CDC infectious disease research facility adjacent to our complex. It has a 12 foot security fence to keep out the Cameroonians who have a 14 foot ladder to collect mangoes in the CDC yard. “Your tax dollars at work!” says Edie. The CBCHS complex here was originally the estate of an eccentric French man of wealth. He made an expansive, exotic garden for his unhappy bride and her friends to make them feel at home. Edie strolled us through it and gave us a quick history. The lower garden is now allotted as farmland that is used for free by the employees of the CDC. The U.S. government has the largest stake around their building. We meet Rose in the field who is furiously chopping weeds around her bare feet with a serious machete. Around lunch we head to Limbe the beach town for a little bit of shop and market exploration and swimming at Seme beach resort. We hit Down Beach for fish dinner and a sunset with our first look at Mt. Cameroon out of the clouds.

Saturday, April 4^th: After breakfast Paul and I are invited to “sport” at volleyball with several employees of the complex. They are all in soccer garb and seem very serious. They are and they are seriously good with coaching, drills and finally games including a ref with a whistle and bad play calls! We play in the sun for three hours. Tom, Edie and I head back to Limbe for more beach time because we promised the kitchen boss, Gladys we’d take her. She got permission from her husband to be gone for the day to bargain for us at market and learn to swim. She does well at the market, not so much at the swimming but she has potential. She asks me, “Freddie. If I go out to far can you bring me back?” She’s feeding us so I agree to keep her alive. Tom takes us to a nice restaurant by any standard called the Miramar. It’s an upscale (for Cameroon) hotel and resort on the beach with beautiful views and a packed, shallow, swimming pool. I feel a little overcooked from sun today.

Water softening stage one of the I.V. Fluid distillery at CBC Central Pharmacy. This is Emmanuel the industrial chemist and darn good volley baller.

Walk to Mutengene proper with a typical example of solid waste disposal.

"Rooms" outside the opinion house restaurant, Mutengene

Opinion House inside

Daily Fare- Papaya and plantain. Carried hear by head!

Picking mangoes in the high security tree

Seme Beach- black volcanic ash sand from half a mile away

Lava flow from the caldera up Mt. Cameroon. They made road around it.

Palms in the French Garden

Rose and a okomobong plant seed

French fountain pools

Cold spring river along Seme beach. Great for cleaning off sand and salt

Brave kids

Large oil refinery. Oil industry has a presence here and Nigeria

First look at Mt. Cameroon

Typical, but newer, motorcycle introduced 10 years ago.

Down beach

selling at Down Beach

Little Mt. Cameroon near the sea

Whole sole, crab, pepe and plantain w/handwash

 

Our personal shopper, Gladys, and Edie in the Limbe market

Fine Cloth shop. Fabric is purchased and tailored into traditional clothing, dresses, aprons, etc. Around $11 for 6 yards of the best waxed cloth you can buy. Tailors will make custom clothes based on weight, height & shape by looking at a person for 10-15$

Miramar hotel and restaurant, Limbe

Half chicken and plantain

The monsoonal storm that forced late Easter services for everyone. Remember the Toto song"...I'll test the rains down in Africa..."? They knew what they were singing about.