Summit Experience

Well the Mount Cameroon trip was a success! I got to the agency's office at 7:30 on Friday morning, where I met Doris, a 40-something German woman who's touring Africa on her motorcycle and decided to spend a month here in Cameroon. Cool lady. She came on the hike with us, along with Dave (the Irishman), as well as David (my German workout buddy), Carsten and Benedikt (German volunteers for Camwater) and Jonas, who was visiting from Germany. All the Germans were fluent in English, but I definitely heard a whole lot of German on the trip! While the porters packed the backpacks we supplied, we went to a place nearby to get breakfast of spaghetti omelette sandwiches. They sound weird but they're high in carbs and protein, which was just the ticket! After we got back to the office, the porters were packed, and each of us was rationed a bunch of bananas, an avocado, and a bottle of water to carry in our backpacks. I also brought some snacks from home: Chocolate, dried fruit, and applesauce. We met Hans, our mountain guide. He's 60 years old and this was his 227th trip on the mountain. A Toyota Hilux (first time riding in one, definitely a highlight) took us, our gear, and the porters to the trailhead, where we took a minute to learn everyone's names. Then we headed up.

Most of the crew that climbed

At first, we stopped frequently for Hans to point out different plants. As we gained altitude, we went from farmland, to secondary forest (crops among the natural forest), to primary forest. Hans showed us plants used to treat conjunctivitis, prostate cancer, and smallpox. The guy was a walking plant dictionary basically. He also turned out to be really good at identifying birds, which reminded me of my biology teacher in academy. We took a quick detour to check out the catchment system that the Camwater guys were working on. After 3 hours of easy hiking through the forest, we reached Hut 1 and had lunch. Everyone got 1 baguette, and we worked on our bananas and avocados.
For the next leg of the hike, we exited the forest and spent 4 1/2hours climbing an agonizing 35% grade. No switchbacks, just straight up the side of the mountain. No shade, no places to sit, just burnt savanna grass and loose rocks. It wasn't much consolation to see the porters panting by carrying 20+kg of stuff while I could barely manage the 7-8 kilos in my backpack. We reached the intermediate hut at some point and rested for 20 minutes. For the first 20 minutes after our rest I didn't paced myself too well, and it came back to bite me. I fell behind everyone but Doris and Hans. It got to the point where I had to rest every 10-15 steps. My legs felt like flaming jello. Numerous false ridges destroyed my hopes that we'd ever reach camp. I plodded around a corner, beyond exhausted, to find "Hut 2" 10 meters in front of me. It was a sorry excuse for a hut, basically just a metal roof and a concrete slab. I immediately sat and took my shoes off. Later, David and I set up the tent we were sharing, and the porters made dinner of spaghetti and tomato sauce. The chilly, dry wind was way different than I'm used to in Cameroon, and was actually pretty nice. We gained 1900 meters that day, hiking 10 km in 7 hours. We were ready for bed by 8:30 pm. The wind was blowing the tent flaps around and I didn't sleep well. At 11 I woke up to go to the bathroom and watch the stars for a while, which was an awesome sight. I could also see the lights of Buea way below us.

Several runners training for the Mt. Cameroon Race of Hope (sponsored by none other than Guinnes)

Great view from Upper Farms

Doris and David enjoying the waterfall

The porters take a break at Hut 1

Out of the forest and into the burnt savanna. Headed straight up!

Germans checking how far we've come

The porters cooking dinner at Hut 2

The next morning we were woken up WAY before the buttcrack of dawn for a long day ahead. Breakfast was 1 hardboiled egg, a baguette with "condiments" (Nutella, cream cheese, or jam), and tea. Not particularly hearty, but it was good. The meal plan had a definite pattern, see if you can figure it out. We were in a hurry to get started, but on his way to breakfast in the dark, Carsten twisted his ankle. As the closest thing to a medical professional, I was the designated provider of first aid. I first made sure he could move his foot to know that it wasn't broken. He said he had heard it pop, so my next theory was a sprain. I had him elevate it as soon as he could, and gave him some kind of NSAID to prevent swelling. After wrapping it, I had him lie there for a while. The porters were drawing straws at this point to decide who would accompany him down the same way we came. He was frustrated to have to turn back, and I'm sure it was a tough hike down. We left an hour late so we were in a hurry to make up time. We spent 5 hours climbing more steep grades and false ridges to the summit. The altitude didn't bother me too much, I wasn't out of breath, just everything from my knees to my hips hurt like crazy. My head was swimming and drowsy, but that was soon replaced by abdominal discomfort. Not sure if I had eaten too much chocolate along the way, had a bad egg, or just overexerted myself, but it slowed me down quite a bit. We reached the summit later than we hoped (12:15 or so), and all I really was thinking about was where and when we'd get lunch. The view from the top wasn't spectacular and we were running behind schedule, so we basically took photos and left for the lunch spot which ended up taking another hour to reach. During the first 4 hours of our descent I had diarrhea 4 times. That worried me because it was as far to turn back as to forge ahead. Fortunately it went away, but I think the loss of fluids and nutrients really depleted my already low energy. After a lunch of baguettes with condiments and pineapple, we spent several hours crossing a tough (but relatively level at least) lava flow and then 2 hours later hiked past some cinder cones that were, in my opinion, way more interesting than the top. Each day we probably went through 4 or 5 ecologically distinct areas which was super cool. We walked and walked, and finally made it to camp 2, where we were to spend our second night. When we got there I lay down immediately and didn't move for a solid 20 minutes. I was stiff as a board, and my knees felt like steamrolled marshmallows from the descent. That day we ascended 1200 meters, descended another 1700 meters, and walked a total of 11 km. We were on the trail for 10 hours. Dinner was rice and spicy vegetable "sauce" which was good, but I tried to take it easy on the sauce, not knowing if it would cause me any more gastric trouble. I slept much better that night. We were in the trees so the wind wasn't as strong.

Hans looking ahead, what a pose!

The view from the summit

This hike was NOT for the faint of heart! This picture represents a lot of pain, suffering, and determination (as evidenced by the poor excuse for a smile on my face). I didn't know what I was getting into, but I'm proud that I made it!

Barren wasteland in the rain shadow. We started pretty much at the highest point you can see in the photo and came down the moraine just to the left of the leftmost tan hill

Awesome views of the craters. There were 11 individual cones caused by this eruption

Craters of 1999. We got to go up and look down into most of the craters. David even found and picked up about half a dozen sulfur crystals

At times it felt like we were on a different planet.

The common dining area for our accomodations on night 2. Would you believe 5 stars?

Still not sure how David is still on his feet at this point

We "slept in" until 6am and got up to a breakfast of, you guessed it: baguettes, 1 egg, tea, and condiments. We hiked through the jungle for 1 hour which was thick and vines seemed to trip us or hit us in the face. We spent another hour and a half in unshaded, rocky, savanna grasses eventually reaching the jungle again. We kept descending down loose rocks, overgrown vines and steep terrain. This whole time I was wearing shorts which I really regret. I was beat to hell, and the others looked about as good. Nobody complained much but I think we were all ready to be home. Lunch was (predictably) baguettes, condiments, and pineapple. We eventually started seeing crops, a sign that we were getting close, and the trail turned into a well traveled path, which turned into a road. Soon enough we were in Buea again, after covering 7 km and 800 vertical meters in 8 hours. I got home at 5 pm, took a much needed shower, ate a huge dinner, and sacked out.

David and Benedict appreciating the savanna that wasn't burnt

Mt. Etinde in the shadow. At the time of the picture we were actually 500 m above the summit. If I saw this picture and didn't know any better, I'd guess that it was taken about 45 minutes away from my house in California

Lava flow from 1982

All told I'm glad I did it, but I was also glad when it was finally finished! The top was obligatory but not particularly interesting. I found all the ecological diversity to be more exciting, as well as the craters from the 1999 eruption. I think I can say that it was the hardest hike I've ever done, the only possible exception being my hike from Yosemite Valley to the top of El Capitan with only 2 liters of water. This was my first multi-day hike though, so after a hard day of hiking, I piled more hurt on the next day. That was a new experience for me. Fortunately I recovered within about 2 days excepting for the blister.
On Wednesday this week I got a temporary roommate. He's a Rwandan (Hutu) doctor who escaped the Rwandan genocide when he was 7. He's from the Union, and he's staying til Tuesday. Nice enough guy, pretty talkative even though he's a Francophone. We've been practicing our weaker language on each other, so I talk to him in broken French and he replies in broken English. It's pretty pitiful, but we have fun. I'm stoked because the hospital got my bunk bed fixed for him to sleep there, so once he leaves I may move to the bottom bunk.
TL;DR I hiked my dogs off over the weekend. It was hard, rewarding, and I'm glad it's over. Pictures below. Recap: 28 km, 26 hours of hiking, 3100 meters up, 3300 meters down, and lots and lots of baguettes with "condiments". I have a Rwandan flatmate 'til Tuesday.

A Peek at the Peaks of the Week

Whenever I check up on my blog, my favorite thing to do is look at the "audience statistics" page. It shows what countries I'm getting hits from. Obviously the U.S. is on there a lot, but I have people checking in from all over! A lot of times I see the country and can guess who's on the other side of the screen: Uganda, Malawi, Ghana, France, South Korea, and Micronesia are all countries where I have friends and family, but other times I think Who the heck do I know in Uruguay? Or Russia, Ireland, Poland, the UK, South Africa, and the list goes on. That said, if you're browsing from some unfamiliar country, post up a comment and check in, I'd love to know who you are and what you do there! Even if you don't "know" me outside of just reading my blog, I'm stoked on learning more about my audience. Specially if you're the Russian mafia, in which case I gotta start covering my tracks ;)

On Sunday I had a relaxing beach day in Limbe. I found a boogie board that the beach just has there for people to use, so I had fun catching waves for about 2 hours. After that I walked around the town for probably 2 more hours and I think I got a little sunstroke because my memory of that part was fuzzy even by that night. All I know is I ended up with souvenirs that I don't remember who I had in mind to receive. I neglected to reapply sunscreen after my swim in the ocean, so I got fried really bad. Surprisingly enough, that's the first serious sunburn I've gotten since being here! Took some aspirin and drank a lot of water  that night and felt fine by the next day. For dinner I ate at the zoo restaurant for the second time and ordered a grilled cheese, tomato, and pesto sandwich. That part of the day is still quite vivid in my mind, and my mouth's watering again just writing about it.

On Monday after work I went to the gym. When I was leaving I turned around to try and positively ID an owl I had seen hunting earlier (either a Barn Owl or African Grass Owl). I didn't see the owl, but the side of the mountain caught my eye. It was clear enough that evening that I could see thin glowing ribbons winding their way down the mountain. They've been burning the trail in preparation for the yearly mountain race. Knew my camera wouldn't take a good enough picture so I just stared for long enough to etch the image in my mind.

Tuesday was pretty cool because I got to pick my first vein! The patient had nice veins and needed an IV injection, so I asked Samuel to let me try. It went well. The guy came back Wednesday and I had to poke him twice, but did it again. The doctor has been letting me do consultation interviews too so that's made things a little more interesting. Seems like more often than not there's nursing interns running all over the place, 9 or 10 at a time. Another crop just showed up for a 6 week stint. Truth is they get on my nerves. I guess when there's 15 people on rounds it just seems a little ungainly. Kinda smarmy little gals too. Always trying to get me to learn all their names. Like there's 10 of you, and every time I figure it out you all get new weaves. Not to mention the 35 others who've come and gone since I've been here. I'm tired of wasting my time, and besides, they'll be gone in February and a new batch will show up.

I think the holidays have slowed the mail service a lot! I've checked and checked, but kept getting disappointed lately. Until Tuesday I had had a 3 week dry spell, all the more aggravating was the knowledge that there were a number of packages in purgatory somewhere between the U.S. and here. I went to the Post Office on Tuesday expecting another disappointment, but was surprised to find one small box! It may have been small but it put a big smile on my face! On the way home I noticed a supermarket I'd never seen before - turns out they just opened a week ago. A quick look showed that they carry applesauce, granola, sterilized milk (which tastes funny but it's better than dry cereal), chocolate chip cookies, and a few other items that I can't find anywhere else in Buea! You have no idea how much of a treat cereal and milk is after 3 months of eggs, hashbrowns, and oatmeal for breakfast! My money situation isn't real luxurious, and I pretty much blew my budget for the week, but it was definitely worth the morale boost.

On Wednesday night I went  and played squash with my German friend David. It's a lot like racquetball, but different enough that I feel like I would be better off not having played either one before. For one thing the ball's a lot smaller and not very bouncy. It's like playing with a hacky sack almost. The racquet is smaller too. Serving was my weakest area, and David won 5 out of the 5 rounds we played. I wasn't much of a challenge for him, but I had a good time, and he seemed to anyway. During a rest, he told me of his plans to climb Mt. Cameroon with the rest of the guys that went to Kumba. The 3 day trip starts tomorrow at 7am...        and they want me to come so that the price will be less per person. The price IS really competitive, and climbing it with acquaintances seems like it's worth the extremely short notice. I himmed and hawed and eventually decided what the heck, let's do this thing! Everything's kind of fallen into place within the last 24 hours. Seems like a pretty big thing to undertake so impulsively, hopefully I don't regret it!
This morning I at least went with David and paid, and tried to get all the accommodations taken care of (porter, food, sleeping bag, tent, etc.). Fortunately I had money saved specifically for this type of a trip, so I didn't blow my budget for the week AND for the month in the span of 3 days! At any rate, that's the reason you're getting this post a day early, because tomorrow morning will find me charging up 4,000-something meters of the tallest active volcano on the African continent! Wish me luck! And look forward to pictures of the experience next week.

Later today I went to the post office again and the floodgates have opened! There were 6 package slips in the mailbox! It costs me ~$4 per package to receive them, and I only had enough cash on hand to get 3, so I'm going back on Monday or Tuesday next week!

TL;DR It's been a wild and woolly week! Sunday I went and boogie boarded in the Atlantic, and ate some fantastic grub. Tuesday I picked my first vein, and was fighting the doldrums some until a package showed up and brightened my day. Wednesday I picked my second vein (same pincush...    err, patient), and tried playing squash for the first time ever. During squash, I decided to accompany my German friends on a 3 day backpacking trip with 36 hours to prepare for our departure. Today has been spent writing this, opening late Christmas packages, and frantically packing/carbo-loading.

The face of relaxation

Lilies at the tributary near Etisah Beach

Obligatory food photo.

Action packed dinner show. Complete with chest thumping and displays of dominance

I hope someday I do something worth a statue that makes me look like half the stud this guy must have been

Left-over Roadkill Casserole

This week's entry is a collection of fresh and semi-fresh paragraphs that I've written that just didn't seem to fit anywhere in previous entries (hence the title). Some of the thoughts are half-baked or of questionable palatability. Highlights and lowlights of the week were the staff Christmas party, indigestion from the staff Christmas party, working extended holiday hours filling in for someone, watching a LOT of movies by  myself, and spending Christmas evening eating and playing ping-pong with American friends. Nothing noteworthy enough of filling an entire blog entry, so instead enjoy this steaming heap of miscellany (sans photos this week, sorry).

The other day I was flipping through channels on the waiting rooms and found an episode of American Pickers. It's one of my favorite shows (behind Love it or List it) so I stopped to  watch. It didn't take me long at all to realize that it was dubbed over in French! Not sure why, but it just struck me as funny that that show would have any appeal to people who aren't from the U.S. I guess it's especially odd in Africa, where people have so few possessions, to imagine them watching a TV show where guys go to houses and dig through piles, even buildings full of stuff that people hoard! Quite a dichotomy.

Turns out making friends here is hard. Let me rephrase that: Making authentic friends here is hard. By no fault of my own, my white skin shows up to Cameroonians as dollar signs. Often times total strangers come up and are nauseatingly friendly, offering to take me places, wanting to meet again within the first 10 minutes of talking with them. Usually I see it coming and evade them, although it's difficult and awkward to blow them off or refuse when they ask for my phone number (I've actually told people I don't know my phone number). Girls will bat their eyelashes and make conversation. Eventually they get to the hard hitting questions though: Are you married? Do you have a girlfriend? Their intentions are obvious enough. Sometimes I fib a little and allude to having girlfriend. Makes things easier, and my conscience is clear. My future may be brighter than theirs, but my current situation isn't all that affluent: In the U.S. I don't have money, I owe money! Why do they think I left in the first place? (Joking, but also kind of not joking). Also worth small mentioning is the disparity in the cost of living here vs. in the U.S. Back when I still liked country music, there was a popular song about how you find out who your friends are. I didn't realize it until coming here, but that song has markedly shaped the way I define a friend. Somebody who's willing to drop everything to help you, expecting nothing in return, save for the knowledge that you'd do the same for them. I think the underlying issue is (not my past appreciation for country music, but) that few see me as a person just like them. I'll raise my hand and say I've done the same to others. Not proud of it, but now that I know how much it sucks, I'm working on it. There's one particular storeowner near the hospital whose name I don't even know. I'd call him a "friend". At least, our relationship is clearly defined. I enjoy talking with him, and I sometimes buy things. I'm a customer. He's a business owner. He's said before that he has nothing to offer me because he doesn't have the means. I like learning from him about Cameroon, he likes learning from me about America. It's simple: no games, no hidden agendas, no strings attached. He's the type of person I'd do a favor for because I like him. I imagine he might do the same for me. It's a start. Of course I trust my superiors at the hospital, and my coworkers to an extent, but outside of that and some other foreigners I've met, there aren't many friends to be had. It's discouraging, even heartbreaking at times, but it's something I'm coming to terms with. You really can't put a price on friendship. But boy, they're gonna keep trying.

I've noticed that around the holidays the taxi drivers here have gone from generally dislikable to total jerkwads. It's been impossible to flag a taxi, even empty ones wouldn't even stop to see where I'm going. The ones that did pulled over ask obscenely high prices to take me anywhere. Took 20 minutes to get a taxi to the Harris's place on Christmas Eve (for 400 francs - two people's fares basically), and I straight up had to walk all the way back from church this week. The few drivers I've ridden with lately have been quite unpleasant. My theory is that since it's Christmastime they feel deserving of some sort of a "Christmas bonus" and as such are self-entitled to charge extortionate prices. Kinda sucks the joy out of Christmas.

I'm toying with the idea of writing my daily journal entries by hand this month, just for fun. To see if it makes my journaling better or worse, or just different. I'll probably jot down less than I'd type, since typing's way quicker. I also would miss the ability to go back and edit and reedit all the time if I wrote by hand. I do that a lot. We'll see how that plays out I guess. Maybe I'll just commit to a week at first and then decide later about doing the whole month.

I've been keeping a list of stuff that I really miss in the U.S., hoping that I can look back on it and really appreciate it more when I'm home. Among the things on the list (in no particular order) are rock climbing, carpet, the taco truck near my house, driving, grilled cheese sandwiches, baths, baseball, comfortable chairs couches and mattresses, veggie meat, and feeling safe going out after dark. I'm worried that I will have picked up some bad driving habits when I return from all the taxi riding. If I get back and honk incessantly for no apparent reason, point, hiss, and whistle at hitchhikers, and am incapable of downshifting to first when slowing to a crawl, somebody stage an intervention. The hitchhikers and my transmission thank you in advance.

TL;DR Christmastime was a perplexing whirlwind of eat, work, party (Not to be confused with Eat, Pray, Love). And on New Year's Eve I ushered in 2016 by drooling on my pillowcase. Nothing really interesting happened in between, so I just threw in recent-ish paragraphs that I was saving for a place they'd fit better. Lightning round: Les Cueilleurs d'Amerique, African hucksters everywhere, taxi drivers with the charisma of a rhinoceros with hemorrhoids, flirting with writer's cramp, stuff I miss, and bad habits.

Wednesday Journal Entry 12/23

As I write this, it still feels like I'm wearing the baseball cap I wore all day until 3 hours ago. I just got back from spending all day in Douala with David. Late though it be (10:45) I'm wanting to journal before I forget fragments. First of all, I spoke on the phone with the family last night. Mason was to go ski today, and I guess they've gotten about 1 meter of new snow in the last 48 hours. Lucky son of a gun!  I miss skiing a lot.

This morning I woke up at 6, since the plan was to meet David at Mile 17 by 7 am. In the twilight outside my door I saw a rat the size of a wiener dog ambling past. Swell! There's no possible way it could get into my apartment being as big as it was, but just knowing they're out there is so gross. Breakfast was just instant oatmeal and my doxy pill. I packed a lunch and headed out. I didn't end up eating that lunch until our return trip.

We left and rode a bus from Mile 17 to Bonaberi, which is just on the near side of the bridge from Douala proper. It took a long time, almost 2.5 hours, which was a bummer. Traffic at the bridge is always really bad, since the bridge is two lanes. A new one is being built, which also slows things down with the construction. We then took a motorcycle taxi across the bridge and into Bonapriso, which is where the supermarkets and international food options are. That was definitely a "bargain" at 1700 francs for the both of us. What with the time it saved weaving in and out of traffic, and it was a good ways, I think it was worth it. Total time from Mile 17 to Bonapriso was 3 hours.

We were dropped at a "supermarket Kado", which we were pleased to find was air conditioned! It had a great selection of stuff, but all David bought was a cold water and a chocolate bar. I held onto my cash to see what else would come our way. We set out to find a place called Super U, which he had heard of. We walked the wrong way accidentally for a little while, but found a few interesting looking restaurants on our wandering. On our way back the right direction after asking directions, we went into a pastry shop with these fantastic looking pastries. I said they were so beautiful that I wouldn't want to eat them if I bought one. I would later eat those words as well as one of the pastries. But I'm getting ahead of myself! We left empty -handed and -stomached, passing a Chinese restaurant, and stopping to look at a menu. Then we found the crown jewel of Douala: The Indian restaurant named Bombay Masala (Don't be fooled by the unfortunate initials). More on that later too. Finally after asking for directions a couple more times we were headed towards Super U. The nice thing about Douala is that, while French is the official language, and most people will say "Je ne parle pas Anglais", most of them do understand and speak some pidgin, which David and I both happen to be getting pretty good at. So we would start in French, but usually conversations would switch over to pidgin.

When we got to Super U, I was astounded. There was a paved parking area. When we went inside I went from astounded to scraping my jaw off the floor. Air conditioned, clean, broad, well stocked aisles, and the selection was amazing. There were even carts! It was like a small SaveMart but also with small clothes and toy sections. The white person per capita population in the store was also frighteningly high (the prices tended to favor only the richest inhabitants of Douala, which are made up of a disproportionate amount of expatriates) David would jokingly call out "white man" when he saw them on the street or driving but here it would have been too conspicuous. We went down every aisle. Twice. It had aspects like a European supermarket, so it was simultaneously completely new, and completely like home. They had two REAL Christmas trees in stock, for the equivalent of $100 USD! Only after seeing every product the place had to offer did I prudently pick out a handful of goodies that I thought I could get the most use/joy out of. I also tried to choose things that wouldn't melt or be crushed in my backpack, as well as items with an aspect of newness that I'd not tried before. Highlights included dates (haven't had a date in a while - either kind), caramel flan in single serve plastic cups, good quality chocolate milk powder, and canned tomatoes. David and I also shared a kilo of caramel gelato. First real, good ice cream I've had here. The total cost came out around 11,000 francs (20 bucks). Not bad all things considered!

After the supermarket we went to check out a cathedral that turned out to be pretty cool and worth the walk. Then we took a moto to the airport to pick up David's German friend Thomas, who's spending 12 days here hanging out with David. We spent probably 2 waiting at the airport. After that we went back to where we started and pretty much started over from paragraph 4 and continued to Super U again, via the same path. This time, though, I stopped and got a little mini key lime pie at the pastry shop for 1000 francs. I ate it all and didn't regret it! We stopped at Bombay Masala, hoping to get an early dinner and hit the road to miss traffic, but it didn't open for another hour and a half. Our goal changed to making it to Spar, another supermarket farther away than Super U. We left Thomas' luggage with the building's proprietor (and Indian fellow who also owned the restaurant). Finally we got there after a LONG walk with a quick stop at Super U to use the really nice toilets there. David accidentally left his Cameroon guidebook there. We got to Spar and it was more expensive than Super U, but had about the same size food selection with even cleaner, bigger aisles. It just opened a month ago. There I was even more frugal, but got imported Canadian maple syrup and a kilo of high quality cocaine (just kidding, I meant rice. But when you say "a kilo of high quality..." cocaine just kind of wants to be the next word. Guess I've watched too much COPS). Another 4,000 francs put me up to ~$30 on groceries. We got a taxi back to the Indian restaurant.

This dinner was the priciest meal I've had since I can remember, and definitely the priciest in Cameroon. We each spent about 10,000 francs. The restaurant was wicked fancy, sure felt like a date! Except for the part where I was with two other dudes. I got chana masala served with poori, and dal tadka, which was yellow lentil and pepper soup. Thomas got a chicken rice dish, and David got mutton. David took off right after we ordered to try and locate his guidebook, but it was an unsuccessful attempt. The food came after only 20 minutes of waiting! Surprisingly fast. Thomas and I waited 10 minutes for David to return, but ended up starting without him. It was all delectable, and soooo worth the money. There were options galore on the menu, and even as a vegetarian I could have eaten there every night for a week and tried something new (although it'd put me in the poor house). That meal was what I'm considering to be my Christmas dinner.

Getting back proved to be tricky, and we spent more than we wanted to on a private car to take us home. It turned out to be a good move, because we got home in only an hour and a half. But I made it, tired, dirty, but with a backpack full of groceries and a huge, shop-shocked grin on my face.
TL;DR Went to Douala with my German buddy, David, who I know from the gym in Buea. Most of our sightseeing was actually just going to supermarkets and taking pictures of graffiti/art on some of the walls that we walked past. We picked up his friend at the airport and took him to Indian food for his first meal in Africa. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I could eat Indian food every day for the rest of my life and I don't think I'd ever tire of it. Even though the "date" scene isn't real strong here, I wish I had asked the owner of the restaurant if he had any daughters around my age who know how to cook!

David's reaction to finding Super U

Stoked on our gelato

Blurry photo of me because I was too excited to hold still

Super cool graffiti (Or is it commissioned art?) on the side of a building

St. Peter and Paul's Cathedral (no graffiti on this one)

Quick discreet snapshot inside the cathedral.

Fine spread at BM Indian restaurant.

The satisfied customers

A gymnasium across from SuperU. The cost of a onetime workout session is more than the monthly fee David and I pay in Buea!

Christmas Ain't No Vacation

This week has been more interesting than usual. I've been suffering from Pandora withdrawals, because it's not available here. But I just discovered iHeartRadio DOES work and so I've been getting my dose of Christmas music. It's helping it feel more like Christmas since it's 35 and muggy here (That's 35 Centigrade, folks). Because of a wedding that many hospital staff attended, I filled in on Sunday and then took Monday and Tuesday off. On Saturday I went to a cultural festival in Kumba, 80 minutes travel by bus. I went with 3 Germans and an Irish guy, all either volunteering or studying in Buea. I know one of the Germans from the gym I've been frequenting. We left Buea at 9:45 and rolled into Kumba at 11:15ish. I felt a little out of place with my companions since they are all pretty much athiests, and drink alcohol, smoke (grass all of them, tobacco a couple), etc. Meanwhile little Seventh Day Adventist, vegetarian Corbin packed his own lunch and just watched them drink beers and smoke for like 3 hours after the festival. But we got along fine. Kumba is way hotter than Buea! It was probably 40+ there. I've never been so glad to shell out 350 francs for a cold bottle of pineapple juice. My camera was working thanks to the electronics guy (even though he gouged me). Took plenty of pictures of all the colorful costumes and videos of a few dances. They also had booths displaying artwork, and one guy taught me how to weave a bracelet out of banana leaf fibers, and I not only got to keep my finished product but received an extra. All for the low, low price of free!
At one point I was asking for a group photo with an all-girls dance team, and two guys came up and got very angry with me, saying "This isn't Europe, it's Africa, you're disrespecting our culture, blah, blah, blah" (Nevermind the fact that I've never set foot in Europe, but it was an honest mistake, I'm white after all). An older gentleman dressed in nice, traditional Cameroonian clothes came up and basically told them to get lost, and that spreading their culture to other places is exactly why they were having the festival in the first place. Turns out this guy was a chief, so he didn't  have to argue for very long to convince them.  One of the mad guys even took the photo.
After the festival ended at 4, we somehow landed an invite to what we think was a beauty pageant. I guess they're always eager to have a little diversity to spice up events. We got there two hours after it was supposed to have started. It hadn't. One of the guys made a mistake of sitting in a place where chiefs were supposed to sit. After being discreetly censured, they decided it was time to leave. During this entire ordeal and subsequent group decision to bail I was stuck in formalities with a talkative chief, so I didn't get a vote. He was wearing a hat that had a wire nest on top, and the wires kept poking me in the face. The main reason cited for our departure was that the chiefs section was empty, so it was still going to be a long time until it began. This reasoning was good enough for me, but I also suspect a little bit of injured pride on the part of the straying Irishman. The bus ride back left me very saddle sore. Changing positions was impossible as packed in there as we were, and to put it nicely, my knickers were in a knot. I just wanted a cold shower after sweating it out all day (Luck for me, cold showers are the only thing on the menu here!) We got back around 10:30, so not as late as I had expected.
The Bellosillos finally came back to the hospital on Monday. They were gone for just over 2 weeks. One of the nurses here has been on leave and had her baby just last Thursday via c-section. I went with a few of the other nurses to visit on Sunday and got to hold him. He was a big boy, 4.5 kilos at birth!
Tuesday after making myself pancakes, I went to Limbe. First I visited the botanical gardens and spent about an hour wandering around. It's an expansive plot of land, and from what I could tell they're very understaffed. Parts were really overgrown but it was still very peaceful and a beautiful spot to relax. Honestly, the overgrown parts gave a cool abandoned feel to the place, enhancing the peaceful ambiance. After that I wandered over to a souvenir shop that I found during my first "real" visit (in the daytime, not stuck at the fish huts). It was closed when I discovered it, but this time it was open so I went in and perused the goods. After that I walked to a restaurant I'd seen advertising a buffet earlier that morning. It wasn't a true buffet, since they only let you fill your plate once, but for 3500 francs it was a good deal. For dessert I threw restraint to the wind and got ice cream for another 1000 francs. Next, I caught a taxi to a beach I haven't been to before. This one had more of an actual "beach" and not just a stony slope and then the ocean like the last beach I was at. It was a black sand beach, which was neat, but black sand gets HOT and I forgot to bring my chunklas so my feet got fried! Still, I had the entire beach to myself, so it was a pretty awesome time body surfing and rolling around in the sand. I guess I could have done it in my birthday suit if I wanted to. It was sunny too, a nice change from my first visit when it rained three times and was cloudy the whole time I spent at the beach. Unfortunately my camera quite working again while I was there, so yesterday I took it back into the shop and let them know what I thought of the price and quality of their work. Guess he's gonna look at it again, and said I won't pay any more. Dang straight I won't pay any more!
Last thing that happened this week was that I attempted to cut my hair by myself with my cordless beard trimmer. MISTAKE. I started off at a reasonable length and was struggling with the teeth getting clogged by my hair. I was kind of acting on an impulse to begin with, so I just took the guide off, bit the bullet, and started cuttin. I made it most of the way problem free, but then my battery ran out. I ended up having to use a razor to shave off chunks of 2 inch long hair that I missed. It sucked! I got razor burn really bad (like bleeding out on the bathroom floor status). Took me like 2 hours to go  from Let's make a bad decision tonight to having a haircut that didn't look like I lost a fight with Edward Scissorhands (looks more like I lost a bet). After that I still had to shower and put some salve on my stinging scalp. It was midnight by the time I crawled into bed, my head spinning from what I'd just done (or the loss of blood...?). I haven't been this bald since I was 6 and my mom decided to try it on me and my brother. Wasn't a good look then, and here's a surprise: It still isn't! The good part about hairstyles is that they always seem to grow on you! Anyways, until next time, Feliz Navidad, vaya con dios, yo querisimo Taco Bell...   And in French I believe that'd be au revoir, Joyeaux Noel, adieu, je veux beaucoup Taco Bell.
TL;DR I shifted my schedule around and took an extra day off, allowing me to visit a cultural arts festival, and the beach, all in one awesome weekend. Ate, drank, swam, relaxed, walked a lot, and was merry (although I wasn't drinking as hard of stuff as my traveling companions to the festival). The doctor has returned. I held a baby this week. As a guy, riding a bus is especially uncomfortable and "crowded" in more ways than one. Left me wondering if I will ever be able to reproduce (Some vehicles here literally don't have shock absorbers, just the springs). I cut my hair, pretty much BIC'd it. Good news is that it should be the only haircut I need while I'm here. Bad news is that I now look like Howie Mandel.

Neat church on a corner in Limbe

Trees so big you could stand under them and the canopy fills your entire peripheral

Particularly colorful flower in the garden

Abandoned area in the garden that felt almost like an undiscovered Mayan Temple

Awesome lunch buffet

This dessert was for serious!

The only thing that stood between me and the beach: about 3 dozen head of cattle

Obligatory beach selfie. Hangin loose (but still wearing trunks, not hanging THAT loose)

Not pictured: Piles of trash lining the beach. I didn't find any glass or needles with my feet!

Right before a rogue wave came from behind me and almost got my iPad wet

Holding the nurse's new baby. He's 3 days old in this photo!

Church on a hill overlooking the festival grounds

Dance off on aisle 3

Possibly the most controversial photo I've taken (see description above)

The dances all obviously told stories. None of them were easy to interpret, but this one was especially curious

I asked "What happens if they fall?" Answer: "They don't"

I guess this is how tractors get gas in Cameroon

Silly Songs with Corbin

Well I'm late this week. The internet is usually pretty good here, but the last couple of days have been exceptional(ly bad). C'est la vie! My pidgin is getting freakin good now if I do say so myself. I'm getting to the point where I actually have been translating for some of my German friends when they don't understand something.

The doctor and his wife have been gone for almost two weeks now. They went to Yaoundé to get their ID cards reissued, and have run into some serious red tape evidently. Only in Africa do the doctor and his wife disappear for two weeks. Pretty incredible! Nothing very exciting has happened this week. My camera has been broken this whole time, but I took it in to an electronics repair shop on Wednesday. The guy said I could pick it Friday. Seemed like confidence to me, at least he didn't hand it back to me and say "Sorry bub, you're outta luck"! I went in to find it fixed, which is the good news. Bad news is that the dude horribly overcharged me, and of course he wasn't there to haggle when I went to pick it up. Cheap shot. Anyway hopefully it's a one-time fix, and I definitely won't be a patron of his in the future. One of the nurses is getting married this weekend, so I volunteered to be "on call" to work for the weekend so that others could attend. That means I'll get Monday and Tuesday off, and I'm hoping to go to the beach on one of those days. What I'll do the other day is anyone's guess. Probably wash my clothes and look on the internet at pictures of food I miss. Some might call it torture, I call it therapy!

My hair is getting long, and I badly want it cut. I've asked the few white people I know, and it sounds like of the many barbers in Buea, not a one of them cuts straight hair well. To be honest I expected this. I guess eventually I'll get to the point of desperation and go try one out. I'm sure no matter what I tell them to do it's going to be a buzz cut. Bleak outlook if you ask me, but I'll have some months to grow it out before I'm back in the States. My only other hope is finding a white person who cuts hair. Considering I know about a dozen of them, the pool is pretty small! I guess anything's possible though.

Christmas is in full swing here. It's not anywhere the commercial holiday that I'm used to in the U.S. but I have seen a few street vendors selling tinsel and other Christmas-y decorations. You can even buy an artificial tree if you go to the right place. My decorating has been pretty minimal. I've got a battery powered string of lights, ceramic nativity scene on my dresser, and a little Christmas tree night light, all received in a care package from the parents. I've found that buying Christmas presents for loved ones back home is a bit trickier than it has been in the past, and I rely a lot on other people to help by picking up and delivering things (you know who you are, and I thank you!)

That's pretty much all I've got for the week, it's been a boring one except for getting a care package from home (one of the highlights was incense: Now my room smells like patchouli instead of rat poison and mildew.). Fortunately I have some more interesting plans developing as noted above, and now I have a working camera to document these plans! By next week there should be an abundance of things to write about: more than you probably will care to read! The last thing I have to share is this video of me singing a song I wrote about my favorite tropical illness. I still cringe when I hear the way my voice sounds recorded. I realize that my vocal talent is mediocre at best, but it gets the point across. And if it makes you laugh (either at the content or at my expense) it's all worth it.

Machismo, Mundane Moxie, Mice

After nearly two and a half months here I finally broke down and bought a fan. Now that I have it, I wonder why I waited two and a half months to get one. I guess I just couldn't decide which one to get, where to get it, how much to spend, etc. I'm starting to realize that being a student missionary doesn't necessarily mean denying or depriving myself of comfort (within reason of course). I mean, I'm already restricted in plenty of other ways. For instance, I'll never have an oven here. A fridge seems unlikely too. I don't have A/C, a couch, a washing machine, a queen sized memory foam mattress (My small mattress is 4 inches of foam, but it's amnesia foam, and I can feel the boards underneath). Until recently, I was inexplicably trying to make things harder than they needed to be, I guess thinking that it would somehow enhance my experience here. Trying to live on nothing (financially and materially). I guess that's the "tough guy" showing through. But I'm not camping for 8 months, I'm living in an apartment, so I might as well act like it. Plus, I'm here for a while, so comfort isn't such a bad thing! Decreases the desire to leave. I bought a pillow for my hard wooden chair. Although I've regained the weight I lost when I first arrived (another perk of allowing myself some comfort is eating more), most of it hasn't returned to my keister (not that there was much to begin with), and I'll be candid, the bone on wood contact was starting to make me ache. I'm also constantly trying to expand my cooking repertoire, and I most recently bought a cheese grater, so now I can make hashbrowns. I even bought 1000 francs (2 USD) worth of Heinz ketchup packets in the imported food store, something I wouldn't have dreamt of doing a month ago.

I've also learned a valuable lesson on habits. Since a few weeks ago, I was fighting having a daily routine tooth and nail. I felt like if I established a routine, that I wouldn't get the chance to do anything fun, exciting, or spontaneous while I am here. I've finally realized that routine has so much value, though. I naturally need structure in my life. I was trying to change that cold turkey here and be a total drifter. It was really hard! Without it I ended up wasting a lot of time time. And yet more time thinking about what to do. My life is much less structured than it was before I came, and that's good enough I'd say. Baby steps! Without routine you can't have impulsiveness because there's nothing to deviate from! I've had, and will continue to have opportunities to do cool stuff here, and that really comes down to patience. Part of spontaneity is being able to jump when the right chance comes your way, not necessarily seeking that chance out! There's still room for fun and living in the moment: The other day I spent 10 minutes stalking and unsuccessfully trying to catch a chicken with my bare hands. Another day after work I just laid in the sun and relaxed for a while. I'm trying to take opportunities to enjoy the slow pace here.

Speaking of waiting for exciting events, I found a mouse in my apartment on Tuesday night. That was a rousing occurrence! He was hiding where I couldn't easily get to him of course, but I made enough noise behind his vantage point to scare him out. I had the door open, and chased him all over the apartment with my broom (breaking it in the process). He ran under my armoire and disappeared. I figured he had run out of the door which is right beside it, but wasn't sure. I was almost more uncomfortable with the uncertainty than knowing he was there to begin with. This lasted about 10 minutes until I saw him run back under my stove cupboard where I first saw those beady, red little eyes. The chase was back on. I finally got him herded out of my flat, and I'm now mulling over preemptive measures. I could easily buy rodent poison, but I'm hesitant to have any toxic chemicals in my small, ill-ventilated apartment, especially since he was under the cabinet where I keep my food. Even worse, I can just picture a very sick little mouse with strychnine pumping through his tiny blood vessels. He crawls into some uncharted nook or cranny in my apartment and breathes his last there in that unreachable crevasse. Then he would have the last laugh and it would really stink! My other option is to set traps, but I fear that bait will be more of an invitation to battalions of ants than to my occasional mammalian visitor. Plus, since I'm not sure he's made my apartment his home yet, I'd hate to lure him into my apartment just to kill him. I'd prefer he just stayed out, but living and consequently pooping in the "man cave" (my entire apartment is the "man cave") is not an agreeable arrangement. I could set the trap outside, but I can just imagine one of the local chickens with an affinity for peanut butter running around with a mousetrap clamped on its head. That picture would be worth a thousand words for sure! The other downside is that I'm not sure where I'd get those traps, or if they're even sold here in Buea. Sticky paper is available, but I've had past experiences involving bloody mouse footprints and nothing else to show for it. The mouse may have been so shocked by the round of broom hockey I played with him that he won't return, but I'm not counting on that. Plan C would be to adopt a cat. I think that might summon lots of fleas though, and Lord knows my body is already a canvas displaying the appetite of the little bitty bugs who can fit through my mosquito net holes. Plus I'm not sure how I'd potty train a cat, or take care of it while I'm at work. Maybe just let it out during the day and bring it in at night. I could feed it handsomely with very little cost to me, but that might decrease its motivation to hunt mice. Plus once I left Cameroon it would be without a home, and I wouldn't want to abandon it or anything. Maybe I should get a python instead! That would be lower maintenance for sure, but reptiles smell awful. I don't know what I'll end up doing, probably just putting off a decision like I do with most other things here.

TL;DR
I'm learning that living within my means doesn't have to mean denying myself of affordable comforts. I went for 2 months without a fan and then decided I'm not Bear Grylls, so I can stop "drinking my own pee" (Figuratively speaking, I assure you). I'm also learning that spontaneity requires routine. It's complicated, but all outlined in paragraph 2. There was a mouse in my apartment, I'm still not sure what to do to keep him from coming back with his friends and relatives. Poison, traps, cat, snake, all things to be considered. In this laid back culture though, I'm finding that when it comes to making decisions like this (beyond what I'm having for dinner or doing this weekend), I kind of just don't decide until the last second (or even more likely, never). Definitely out of character for me, but I'm rolling with it.