Marché Centrale-On Saturday, Diogo, Kaisa, Tom, and I decided to take a dive deep into the largest market in Central Africa, Douala’s Marché Centrale. I may have written of this behemoth before, but on Saturday I REALLY got down and dirty and got a good feel for the market. Its huge, chaotic, and crazy, and best of all, we chose to go when it was pouring rain. Not the best time when the market is little more than thousands of wooden stands, tarps, shoes, clothes, food, gadgets and people strewn haphazardly on a muddy field. Nonetheless, I LOVE the market. This market really allowed me to gauge my development here in Cameroon. The first time I entered the market with my friend Danny, I was overwhelmed, confused, disoriented, uncomfortable, and a little bit frightened. Now I thoroughly enjoy wandering through the market, finding the most unique and interesting things you could imagine, being pushed by passerbyers, having ppl clutch your arm to get your attention and people advertising their products (the sales tactics are the best -Le blanc! Tu as besoin des pantalons/tomates/chaussures! Tu viens!” or in other words “White! You need pants/tomatos/shoes! You come!”) Even more amusing is being continuously mistaken for a Chinese person. If someone on the street assumes Im French, German, American, or English, I figure, okay, these guesses are reasonable enough, I wont play along, and Ill correct them and say, “non non mon amie, je suis canadien!” But on the other hand, when someone assumes Im Chinese, I cant help but have a laugh at their expense “ooooh chinois!!! tu as besoin des pantalons?”, my response, “oh oui oui, je suis chinois, mais, je n’ai pas besoin des pantalons, je peux les acheter  en chine.” Ohhhh the market…

My favourite find on this particular trip was a tiny little bar tucked in the middle of nowhere in the centre of the market, sandwhiched between clothing stalls, and a decaying old building. Having walked for a substantial amount of time, we felt that we had earned a cold one, so we settled onto the little wooden benched undernearth a tarp and enjoyed a beer. We also partook in some cajoling and laughing with some local guys who had also stopped in to have a drink and to watch a heated and competitive game of checkers.

The legacy reaches a new level- As mentioned in an earlier post, I purchased shisha a few weeks ago for myself, the aiesecers, interns and other friends to enjoy when they come to visit my place in Ange Raphael. Due to the location and the comfortable outdoor sitting area at my place, chez Matt has become the primary meeting and hang out place for many good people. Many fun times have been had sitting, laughing, enjoying Akwa-isms (the term I use to describe the amazing expressions my pigeon, English, and French speaking roommate Akwa has come up with including “my 18 metre box” “keep on knocking” and of course “jacka jacka pot”), the occassional drink, and of course the shisha. Late last night we had a little good bye gathering for Tom and Daisy who were regular figures at my place. We stuck to the usual routine, and during the last hours, we became very nostalgic, and the topic of the shisha legacy came up. At that moment we decided to all add a really personal touch. A small group of us drafted a brief decleration and message to future generations of Douala shisha-smokership, passing on the responsibility to take care and enjoy our shisha, around which we shared many good times. We all signed our names and countries as well. Although really lame, this moment was one of my favourites since I arrived in Cameroon, and I think it helped to give a better feeling of closure for those who have already left or will soon leave this crazy place known as Cameroon.

Beau, nice!-Beau is the little town nestled at the foot of Mt. Cameroon in the English speaking region of Cameroon. A few us travelled there the weeekend before last. Tom and Daisy wanted to take on Mt Cameroon, while Diogo, Kaisa and I just wanted to relax in the little town. Its really quite a nice place, very different than Douala, and we all agreed that if we could relocate ourselves and all of our friends there, it would be even better than Douala. In Beau one evening we stumbled upon a random restaurant which was actually similar to a club house, like the shriners or rotary club at home, but instead called the Beau Mountain club. Here I ate the most delicious chicken and fries Ive ever had. This is also where we had an interesting run in with Princess and Verra. Princess was a woman of maybe 35 years…wild hair, slightly resembling a witch, drawn on eyebrows, and a bit of moustache. Verra was older, and a bit more stately, but really cool and enjoyed her beer. Both are school teachers in Beau. It is from these two woman that I learned that the “modesty” that many ppl claim to be found in Africa does not exist- and it was hilarious!

My brief encounter with Princess began with her first telling me “im a widow with a child” and then proceeding to ask me if i was, “strong down there” being confused and innocent, it took me a second to realise what she was talking about and I answered “ummm, I hope so?” Cameroon is always full of surprises. Ha, modesty my ass, never ONCE have I been asked that question at a shriners club in Canada!

Anywho, credit almost out, untill next time!

Perceptions and television- Over the last few months, I’ve had the chance to get to know and speak with a lot of Cameroonians. Although my career interests are related to the field of international development, I am here teaching English, and although these two fields arent directly connected, I have found my time with my students here to be very insightful. My students are all upper level students and can hold their own in a conversation, therefore to practice speaking, I try to introduce interesting discussion topics, and also my students come up with their own. In this classroom setting and because of the interaction with my students, I began to formulate an idea.

 I’ve always been aware of how television and the media can shape our perceptions of people and places that we are unfamiliar with, but my time here has really shown me how prevelant this phenomenon is. I remember last year in my African studies class our professor wrote the word “Africa” on the board and told everyone that we had 2 minutes to write down as many words that we could think of that related to it. He then collected them all and presented the results to the class. The top ranked responses were terms like genocide, famine, poverty, jungles, tribes, ethnic conflict, lions, elephants, HIV/AIDS, and the dark list continued. This exercise reflected largely what we knew about the continent from watching the news. Sure, many of these terms had good reason to be there, but this list reflected the skewed perception many people hold that Africa is continent with nothing but suffering, jungles, and wildlife.

That class really helped to dispell some myths for me, but actually being here has showed me that the Africa you see on TV is not the Africa you can actually see, touch, feel, and experience in person. I mean afterall, many of you have been shocked that I havent even seen a lion yet! How does one go to Africa without running into a lion somewhere????

 While I was aware of most of this before, Ive also realized that I was considering only one half of the equation. I was forgetting something, what is the perceptions that Africans have of you and I in Canada?

This is where many conversations Ive had here have taught me alot. It seems that many people here shape their opinions of the outside world much in the same way we do . Afterall, by this point, almost every person in the city of Douala has at least one cell phone, if not two or three (the reason for this is clear when you realise their is no infrastructure for landlines), internet access, and most importantly, television. Now, consider that much of the programming watched on television here comes from either Europe or the US (with a few local channels here and there). Next, take a moment to think about some of the things our eyes are bombarded with every day on television…Advertisements for luxury cars, fictional television shows like the OC, and better yet “reality television” like My Sweet 16. In many ways, television represents a flashy highlife that cannot possibly represent the lives of many people at home.

In the end, many people are left with an impression of our lifestyle that may be accurate in some cases, but certainly not all. Much of this can fuel the idea that as white guy from Canada, I have endless flows of money, while in reality, I rely on my paycheck here to be able to survive. At the same time, situations exist here where those few Cameroonians who are fortunate enough to have money and who are living a lifestyle as comfortable or more comfortable than my own in Canada, still lump themselves together in the “poor category” with their fellow country-man. Afterall, when someones best source of information about the lifestyles in Europe and North America come from Jersey Shore or The Hills, won’t they always consider themselves impoverished relative to the Guidos and Guidettes?

Now hear me out, in no way am I trying to say that Canada and Cameroon are the same or that people in either country have equal opportunities, that certainly is not the case. This opinion is also based primarily on indicators of material wealth, where in Canada I am fortunate to experience so many other types of wealth including rights and freedoms that may not exist here. What I have realised though, is that a large amount of misunderstanding and ignorance exists on both sides of the ocean, mountain, border, or other barrier that divides people socially, politically, or economically. In either case, don’t believe everything you see on TV because in simple terms, not everyone owns a mercedes in Canada and not everyone lives in a hut in Africa-contrary to what some may believe!

The military flight that wasn’t meant to be-getting to the North of Cameroon is not easy, we wanted to set up camp in three major cities in the region, Ngoundere, Garoua, and Maroua (feel free to google map those) although to look at a map, it doesnt appear that far, to get to Maroua, our first and furthest destination took nearly 30 hours by a combination of buses and trains. Now, while planning this excursion an interesting opportunity came up- the chance to piggy-back on a military cargo flight to the North, which would have cut our travel time down to about 2 hurs. Of course, this option seemed VERY appealing (and a bit epic, I mean, how often do you have connections with the military and Cameroon to travel with them? Quite adventure worthy I thought, although here this isn’t an entirely unusual mode of transport for friends and family of people in the military). So, we were told the compromise is that we would have a dirt cheap flight, but it would leave during the week, but it would be short notice (we would know maybe 24 hours in advance) BUT, like many things in Cameroonian, you can’t put all your faith into one option, things change and challenges ALWAYS arise- this time in the form of delay after delay after delay, untill finally, we sadly had to give up on our military flight because we risked not making it to the north at all due to time constraints. I mean…30 hours of travel is that bad…is it?

The train- Being the budget traveller I am, when I saw the option of sleeper class, first class, and second class for a 17 hours train ride, my instincts easily drew me to the cheapest option- 2nd class. Now that was an experience! Dirty, crowded, uncomfortable, Ive never experienced train travel like it before. Seats were tiny and uncomfortable, people were nearly sitting on eachoether and many had no options but to stand ooooh yes, welcome to CAMRAIL in Africa! Also dont forgot the constant need to keep an eye on your belongings, you never know when someone might swipe something when you close your eyes to nap!

Fortunately, the train ride passed without any major issues, we chatted with the other passengers, shared our cookies, ate bitter kola nuts, bought snacks from the chhildren who swarm the train at every stop trying to sell you their various products (including massive bottles of honey? Who wouldnt need honey during a 17 train ride?). I was the only one of my group who thought “to hell with me sleeping and sanitation standards, Im sleeping on the floor!” So for much of the journey, I could be found on the floor, sandwhiched between a little old Cameroonian lady, a giant bag of peanuts, and half crammed under a seat in order to allow traffic to continue down the aisle. I definetly got some laughs when I first went to the floor, I dont think any Cameroonians expected that. All in all, it wasnt the WORST sleep Ive ever had…

The cities, towns, and people of the North- the North was VERY different than Douala, they were almost uncomparable. Douala is a big, dirty, exciting, cosmopolitan, and not necessarily “warm” city. The north was far poorer, more isolated, calmer, and the people seemed much friendlier (instead of the typical and slightly rude “le blanc” of douala people actually said “bonjour” and smiled as you walked by-a nice change for once! We saw mosques, visited open markets, and experienced a very different culture, highly influenced by Islam and North African cultures. t was really someting! In each city, we found lodging with friends and family members of people we know from Douala.

The sites- Although Ngoundere, Garoua, and Maroua were our primary camps, we hired a car and a driver to take us to some of the more isolated sites. Rhumsiki is a part of the Mandara mountains, which form the border between Nigera and Cameroon, it was one of the most surreal landscapes Ive ever seen, high rolling mountains, with amazing jagged rock out croppings peppered across the surface. It was almost like being on a different planet. I hope my pictures can do it justice! We also visited Lake Lagdo, a lake that was formed after the contrustionn of a hydro electic damn- the lake was beautiful and surrounded by mountains. We discovered an empty resort that was guarded by one sole employee who we caught sleeping on the job. We swam there and and took some time to relax.

One minor dissapoiuntment was the fact we could ot get to Waza park, one of the best wildlife parks in Africa, also one of the best places to find the big five animals of Africa (lions and what not) but unfrotunately the rainy season made it impossible to access, so instead we went to a smaller park and had the chance to see hippos, antelopes, monkeys, and baboons in the wild, it was still really cool!

Well, my time is running short, and I have numerous stories to share from this trip but Ill summarize by saying- Like everything in Cameroon, travel requires HUGE amounts of patience and flexibility, and it is deffiently not for somebody who needs to stick to a schedule or a plan, those just DO NOT work here. Even the simplest things that would take 5 minutes to discuss agree and organize at home, take hours here because of the environment and Cameroonians love to talk and talk and talk…ooooh Cameroon, c’est la vie!

How Africa has made me whiter- Before leaving, I joked with many people about going to Africa and becoming blacker via a wicked tan. While, I think I may have become more African than when I arrived, a bizzare phenomenon has been taking place for the last two months…Cameroon has been making me whiter than I arrived. The culprit?

The rainy season, my new arch nemesis.

When I arrived the weather was beautiful, bright sun, blue skies, and hot weather (I dont think I EVER complained about the heat). But now…rainy…clouds….A LOT of rain…followed by more clouds and a few hours of sun here and there. Couple this with the fact that I wear a dress shirt and pants to work and relain indoors teaching most of the day, I think this is the palest I have EVER been in July. Who would have thought, come to Africa, and become whiter? Not I.

Le Varan-My diet here is almost sinful. While typically very health conscious and active at home, here, the staples of my diet are beignets (donuts) and bread. Although it is possible to eat a diet less carbohydrate rich, its not easy. But when I break away from my typical eating habits, I like to try something new. Enter le varan. I tried it  earlier this week and it was delicious, tasted like a cross between chicken with the greasyness of duck perhaps, while also having a distinct lizard skin on the outside that  had been de-scaled and cooked. Quite tasty. Now I encourage you to check out varan online, these arent just any lizards. The picture I briefly saw looked like an intense komodo dragon or something. Id rather encounter it on my dinner plate than outside.

The Welcome Party-Things just have a certain way of being run and done here. Sometimes it drives me nuts, sometimes it makes laugh, and other times Im baffled. I cant decide about this one. Tomorrow I am attending MY welcome party being put on by the local AIESECers. Yes, I know what you are thinking, I HAVE been here for almost three months…over half of my stay, but finally, I am receiving my offical welcome. Alright, to be fair, they decided to wait for some more interns before putting on a big shindig, but when I mentioned the possibilty that i couldnt attend because I had arranged to travel (this party has been rescheduled, changed, forgotten, put through the laundry, everything you can think of besides actually HAPPENING) and when I told them this it is like I had said the most insulting thing. After all they said, how could you NOT come to YOUR welcoming party, thats unthinkable!

Well, I’ll brace myself to be “welcomed.” Should be a good time, at least it actually is a welcome for the rush of interns who have arrived over the last month…

My purpose-Recently I revealed my panic about trying to find my purpose or mission before I leave Cameroon, time’s a tickin’! When I first arrived, I could hardly speak a word of French, which made interacting with some members of the local committee (LC) here very difficult. Now I can at least survive in a conversation. When I arrived I was also the only “AIESECer” EP. The rest were just people who were recruited just for exchange and had no interest in helping the local organization, and so I didn’t have any other interns to bounce ideas of off. Since then, a few other experienced AIESECers have arrived, and weve decided we’d really like to get more involved with the LC here and give them a hand with a few things.

Now this will be interesting, because three of us come from AIESEC LCs that all had at least a similar culture, working style, and structure. Here it is completely different and the realities of Douala and its people are very different. But we want to help and make some suggestions in some areas we’ve found some weakneses in, and Im sure we will learn some things along the way. We might learn some new ideas for our own LCs and their structures and strategies, but more importantly, I think personally the from very different places and cumtures (which infact is huge part of the AIESEC mission).

There is always the idea that we dont want to come and impose our ideas on someone else, but the great thing about AIESEC is that we are all members of the same organization and have the itnerest of our members at heart.  So although we may do things VERY differently, there is at least the mutual understanding that we all have eachothers best interest at heart. Its really quite something, and I dont think I really fully appreciated this untill I arrived.

Tomorrow some of the interns and I are meeting with the leaders of the LC to get some information about its current state, its members, and its strategies. We’ll see what happens!

The North-this is just a teeser but, I MIGHT finally be going to the north of cameroon next week. Details are limited on our plan, but Ive been waitin for this trip for a while, its a big one. Its very far away, and also very different from the regions Ive visited so far. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

And yes, the shisha legacy…best investment ever.

Canada Day-Alas, for the first time I have been seperated from my homeland for the first Canada Day ever. This means I missed out on the typical 1)watch parliament hill celebration on TV   2) predrinking/bbq with friends   3) fireworks    aaaand of course, you few special people know who you are for this one   4)being a good friend and babysitting those who have maybe had a little too much to drink while at the Harveys downtown (coughandieandnathancough). This year was different. I had a class on Canada day and decided to throw my own Canada day parties with my students! It was great, we all cooked food, brought music, and I gave them a “Made in Canada Quiz” and talked and talked about home. It was different, but I still felt equally Canadian!

The Flood- Alright, so ive gotten used to the unpredictable and unexpected here, both the pleasant surprises, and the shocking problems and delays…well…The Flood tops them I think. My office is on the third floor (the top floor) of a building in Downtown Douala. Now, weve experienced the odd lock before, but nothing prepared me for this…

One evening recently, I was in the middle of delivering a lesson to my students for an evening class. Outside it was raining like crazy (welcome to the rainy season) and the rain was so heavy I had to yell for my students to hear me as it hammered the mostly tin roof. I had my students full attention, untill one by one, their eyes drifted down to my feet. Confused, I stopped midsentence to look down and a small lake of water had formed around my feet and more and more water was flowing in from under the door. I was quite perplexed by this, so I walked towards the door, opened…and in the hall way part of the roof had burst, and my entire office was being flooded by a waterfall. Again, Ive seen leaks…but this was a WATERFALL, gushing in with natures full fury. I just quietly observed this shocking scene for a few moments, barely reacted, then turned to my students and calmly said…”hmm, i think we might have to end class early today…theres a…leak…” My students looked out the door behind me and theyre startled expressions showed their alarm and surprise.

Within minutes every room on the top floor and in our training centre as under at least one or two inches of water…and we were on the thrid floor! What a unexpected problem this was. We spent the next hours depseratly rescuing materials and anything sitting on the flood or near the waterfall. Then we had to sweep all of the water and down the stairs, Ive never seen anything like it! Needless to say, I was back to school the next morning with my next. Resilience it the key!

A man of many names-Sarkozy, Le Blanc, Blanc chocolat, Western Man aaaaand Jack Baur of 24? Yep, Ive heard them all. The average Cameroonian hesititates very little to shout random names at you as you walk by, le blanc is certainly the most common, but recently I keep getting compared to Nicolas Sarkozy and Jack Baur…two very different people if you ask me! I prefer Jack Baur, for sure. Sure feels odd when three times and three days you hear someone say “le blanc resemble à Jack Baur!” Next time I hope im close enough or feeling adventurous and turn and say “Oui, je SUIS Jack Baur!” I wonder what the reaction will be?

The Camera-So obviously, walking down the street is enough for me to be recognized as a foreigner, but theres another thing that serves to seperate an outsider even more from local people. Outside of AIESEC events, or events with friends, Ive been very hesitant just to take pictures of the city where i live as well as the people and the way of life here in Cameroon. Carrying my camera around and snaping pictures at will seems to draw attention and put up a barrier between myself and people here, or at least it feels like it for me. Not that people here in general care about cameras, after all in this city, many people here have them themselves. Yet, to take pictures just of people or places at large makes me feel and LOOK like a tourist or a visitor.. .Not that this is a bad thing…its just a bit unsettling for someone trying to blend in and do the Cameroonian thing.

For example when Im dressed in my work clothes, taking motos, or with my local friends, it feels like this is home, and when people see me away from the foreigner hotspots (aka downtown and the wealthy neighborhoods) I dont feel like im perceived as some foreigner here to gawk at things. I fly “under the radar” so to speak (or as mch as I can). But when I walk around with my flip flops, back pack, and camera, I get the impression that Im perceived differently and am somehow more distanced from my surroundings. So for some reason, I feel so akward with a camera here, it feels so stupid, but I had another intern tell me the same exact thing! Oh well, Ill get over it. Some day soon, Ill hire a moto for an hour and just tour the whole area snapping picture after picture for all at home to enjoy!

The legacy- Now that my Tunisian friend has left, I am without a hookup to the Lebanese community. That meant, no more shisha. But have no fear, Ive taken things into my own hands. After finding a few other interns who shrae my life with shisha, I went on a search to find the materials to prepare our “legacy.” Last night, I bought all of the necessary supplies to have our very own shisha, although not the highest quality and suffering from some technical problems, we took it for a test drive on my patio last night, and it was fantastic. The other interns and I have decided to split the cost, and leave the shisha here after we leave for AIESEC and all future generations of interns to enjoy. Another AIESEC LC to be bit by the shisha bug, a proud legacy for me!

Also, because I heard this song on the radio the other day, and to honor the fact that Ive been sharing my life and adventures with you through the internet, todays song choice is fittingly Brad Paisley’s Im so much cooler online. Enjoy!

Post Numero 1

 Life is trundling along  here in good ol’ Cameroon and Im surviving (well,  more than just suriving infact, things are still great) but in the last couple of days Ive come to a startling realization…I have been here for over half of my stay now! I cant believe it! Every time I picture the number 1/2 in my mind’s eye a tidal wave of associated thoughts is triggered in my head. Bear with me as I try to explain this…

Lets first have another look into the psyche of Matt Banninga…I know what youre thinking, I DO hate math and fractions in general…but since I arrived, every week or so Ive been following a simple pattern. 

1. stop for a moment to think and reflect on my adventures and experiences.

2. brand a number into my head based on a calculation of “how long have I been here, and how much longer do I have?”. For example 1-1/8=7/8.

3. attach the resulting thoughts and emotions to the fraction now firmly, yet mentally secured in my head. Now whenever these fractions and time measurements are recalled, corresponding mental matter is recalled as well.

Landmark emotions and events here have often been tied to these fractions and time spent vs. time left calcualtions. Wish me luck as I try to provide a few examples of how this works during the 45 minutes my cyber credit will allow.

When I arrived, after my first week or so I stopped to think, “wow, Ive been here only 1/18 of my stay and Ive ALREADY experienced so many crazy new and exciting things, this is going to be a great long summer I still have 17/18 left!”

Next, fast forward to the beginning of May, when culture shock was at its worst and I yearned for home. At this point, my own mental commentary sounded like this ”Ugh, I just want to see my friends and family, have a normal, boring, everday conversation, and I want to be able to walk down the street without being an obvious and easily spotted outsider…okay stay strong youve already made it 1/8…only 7/8 left.”

After this feeling passed we move onto early June, days after my return from a weekend out of Douala (for the first time) and meeting a number of other interns.  I had just returned from Limbe and although I enjoyed the more luxurious lifestyle that weekend, thats not what changed my attitude. It was getting out of the city to see GREEN and the OCEAN. Ive been living in a crowded, polluted, noisy city and I DO love it. But I was in great need of this refresher. Visiting with other interns who could relate to my experiences up to that point was also very helpful. On this occassion I thought “alright, 1/4 of the way, get out of homesickness mode, theres no need to be under a dark cloud, get to the here and now, you still have 3/4 left to enjoy!.” Unfortunately for some of my viewers, this is also when my dependency to the internet began to lessen, hence the less frequent posts!

Towards the end of June, life had really started to settle here in Cameroon. The friendships and relationships that had began when I arrived had firmly taken root, with my coworkers, students, some local friends and neighbors, my colleagues and boss, and the other interns. I started to feel less and less like a lonely visitor or traveller. This realization came  at me like this “hmm, 1/3 of the way, and things are really starting to feel like a second home, the typical things that used to be so wild and new here are no longer wild or exciting…but…thats new and exciting in its own way, I still have 2/3 left to continue building on this foundation!”

And finally, to the most recent brand in my head… 1/2…the big landmark, the number, has been stamped into my head with a big rubber stamp with red ink. It has been much more challenging to articulate a thought to go with this fraction. As determined by the laws of math, when I did the calculation, “okay 1/2 over…that means…1/2 left???” this time, I had crossed the threshold. Ive been here for over half of my stay, Ive lived those minutes hours and days of “1/2″ in Cameroon time, I know how fast they go and what they feel like. Ive been there and done “1/2″ .

It was startling when the solution to my equation was no longer greater than the input. Suddenly the mysterious conception of time for other half of the equation was solved !

 Thats all I have left now, and as the mathematics continues to bear down on my days, that time horizon is only going to get smaller. But how should I feel? Should i relax and not think about it? Should I go into panic mode and start trying to travel and go go go as much as I can? So many people have told me to “make the most of it.” Or should I focus more on my basic everyday experiences with my friends and work? Afterall, in some ways these things are equally or more rewarding than big trips to the mountain or the beach. Should I also be trying to find a better to leave my mark here? Should I dedicate more time to helping the AIESEC chapter, should I spend my spare time getting involved with a project or charity here? Should I be dreading the fact that the time is ticking, or should I happily accept the fact that I will soon return to my dear country, friends, and family?

This might not be the clearest post Ive made to date, but it reflects the jumbled mind I have right now because of this realization. Infact, I wont even bother proofreading this time around, this will be my pure raw and  unedited thoughts surrounding the topic. Afterwards though, If any of you were able to undersand it, please feel free to re-explain it to me or help me clarify it myself. As you can see, this whole 1/2 business really has my mind spinning and over-evaluating things here.

Well, I blame it on fractions and math…Theyve never been my friends, and once again they have brought back the same feelings of anxiety and confusion as they did in grade 12 advanced functions! Ha!

Nowadays, things really keep me living in the here and now and although my friends and family are dearly missed, at this point Im able to make it through a day without my thoughts being drawn home with the matching feelings fo home sickness. But when I hear from my friends and family all of my thoughts immediatly turn to them and for a period of time my thoughts are on NOTHING but home. It almost feels like living a double life sometimes! Either way, the moral of this story is, Im so happy when I hear from people across the big blue ocean, so keep ‘em coming!

The World Cup-So you know that totally underplayed (if you lived in Douala you would IMMEDIATLY detect my sarcasm about being underplayed) shakira world cup football song? Well apperantly the original song is Cameroonian, it is either bakoti or makossa music, Ive yet to become Cameroonian enough to tell you which. The original track is very similar to the world cup version, just remove the ”hey this is africa” Shakira part and there you have it. Now speaking of the world cup…apperantlyCameroons indomitable lions were dominated…more than once ha. Although there is another match against Holland, Cameroon unfortunately was the first country to be kicked out from the runnings. Now many of you have thought being in Africa during the world cup would automatically lead to excitement…but if peoples emotions can be greatly stirred by their teams performance in victory, it can also be stirred by failure. The country almost seems to be in a depression over the loss (the rainy season weather sure doesnt help either), so Ill really have to keep my fingers crossed for another African team to perform well, luckily Ghana has made it through!

Shisha and a hot shower-over the last couple of weeks, ive developed a very good friendship with Selemen, the Tunisian fellow, but unfortunately as soon as we have become close, it seems he must return to Tunisia. Hes a funny guy and Ill be sad to see him go. As a result, weve been trying to hang out as much as possible before he leaves and during one of these hang outs I had two of the most fantastic things happen…shisha AND a hot shower. Selemen lives in a massive apartment and so i stayed in his spare room for a night last week and that evening his lebanese neighbors invited us up for shisha…my guilty pleasure! Ill was heavenly. The next morning I also enjoyed a hot shower for the first time since arriving. Twas magical!

The Ascent- Cameroon is home to Central\West Africas highest mountain, fittingly named Mt. Cameroon. This mountain has served as a test for many adventure seekers, both local, and from abroad. Standing at 4000 meters tall, with about 34 kilometres of hiking, a trek up this mountain aint no walk in the park…I can vouch for that personally, as you read this, I sit here a broken man. Burnt to an extreme crisp (apperantly there is less natural UV protection up there), and aching from head to toe, my destroyed body is the proof of the most exhausting experience Ive ever had. We set out, a Tunisian (my friend Selemen),two Canadians (myself and Ludwig from Montreal) and a Norwegian (a galnamed Ingrid) at 5am, looking for a challenge, to make it to the summit and back in one day..a journey that most people do in 2-3 days, camping along the way. Now Ill admit, the mountain got the best of me, Selemen and I were unable to make it to the summit, but our other two teammates did, of the 4000 m, I climbed about 3800 and back down in 14 hours of continuous hiking.

The beginning of the climb was through a tropical rainforest, it was truly beautiful, but hot and humid with lots of mud and tree roots to struggle over uphill . By the time we reached the first out post, our spirits were still very high, we had a quick break and started into our baggettes, trail mix, and bananas. After we emerged from the forest we were greeted by an amazing sight. By this point we were too high for dense forest to continue and we looked upon the face of the mountain, grasslands, a few trees, and lots and lots of crumbling volcanic rock (yes, the Mt. IS a volcano). We continued our climb, gradually rising above the cloudcover, and a few hours later, we reached the most difficult part of the ascent, a steep section that literally brought me to climbing up on my hands and knees because it was so steep at points, add in the crumbling jagged rocks and youre in for a goodtime! At was at this point I experienced my first horid leg cramp, which continued to slow my pace for the rest of the day. The thinner air, and my lowlevelof physical activity over the last two months surely were the causes. By this time our group  split up. The other Canadian and the Norwegian sped ahead like experienced mountain goats, Selemen and our guide fell behind, and I continued independently at my slow limping pace. For a period of time I was completely alone on the mountain side, sourrounded above and below by clouds. It was surreal. By 1 oclock I stopped for a few moments justto experience the complete silence. Ive never experienced this absoulute absnece of sound before. If I held my breath I could hear nothing but my own heart beating in my ear drums. No birds,no wind, no insects buzzing, no motorcycles, no yelling, no talking. Just nothing. After climbing bymyself for some time I realised Iwouldnot be able to make it to the summit and back down before dark. Thats the thing about climbing a mountain. You become so fixed on reaching the top, that you forget you have to climb alllll the way down to. Lacking flashlights, this is something I did not want to attemptafter dark, so I had to swallow my pride and turn back about an hour away from the summit. Good thing I did to…it would have made the hike back through the rainforest even more hellish than it was. On my way back down, our guide popped out from behind a rock cropping and scared the bejesus out ofme. I stopped for a moment to relax and dozed off to sleep (I sleptonly ‘ hours the night before). All I can say is WOW, waking up from a nap, a nice cold breeze, warm sun (the cause of my severe burns) and my first sight as looking DOWN on billowing white clouds and looking straight across  at the clear blue sky..amazing,and totally worth what my body is experiencing today. Of course it was hard to appreciate this beauty for the next 7 hours of hiking back DOWN the mountain. Know that saying its all down hill from here? Thats supposed tomean things are onlygetting easier? NOT true at all, the climb down was equally if not more difficult than the way up!

Alright everyone, we have T-minus 17 minutes and counting to get this post out.  Wish me luck…

Ketchup- Although I genuinely like the food here, sometimes a guy just craves for some good ol’ home cookin. You know, a nice roast beef, some ‘taters, green beans, and maybe a big piece of apple pie. My mouth waters at the thought of it.

Although most of these items would be possible to find here, it would be difficult, and I may not have the proper facilities to cook them in my desired way. So, I get by with my food here and Im happy..but the most surprising thing keeps coming up to the top of my mind…KETCHUP! Who would have thought, of all of the things I eat an enjoy at home, that it would be ketchup that I would miss the most! Again its possible to find here, but its just not a staple food like it is for me at home.

Recently my boss asked me what food I miss most from home. When I expressed these feelings for ketchup to my boss , even I was a little baffled. Im sure he was expecting some sort of high class or unique Canadian dish…but nope…just regular old ketchup. Apperantly my tastes arent as disinguished as I thought! 

A few days ago while eating dinner with my boss he told me he had a surprise, and presented a bottle of perfectly chilled ketchup from his fridge. You could tell that its not consumed here often, because we were eating rice and avacado at the time. Nevertheless, I drenched my rice in ketchup (something even I wouldnt do at home) and thoroughly enjoyed it!

My Last Name- So my song choice today is the country song My Last Name, I think its by Dirks Bentley, but I might be mistaken, I leave it up to you country fans to correct me with your comments. Why this choice you wonder? Well apperantly the name Banninga has deep Cameroonian roots as well as Dutch. Although I cant get into all of the different examples, every time I attend a meeting or meet someone new, people are always shocked when a random white Canadian dude shows up in the place of their local counterpart named Matt “Banninga” who they assume to be Cameroonian. Gotta love it!

Uh oh, times tickin!

Drinking games- Alright so this past weekend I attended an AIESEC conference. I missed the global village in which I was supposed to present my culture, but instead made up for it at the after party by teaching the Cameroonians a range of drinking games, flip cup, what the f##k, beer pong, and kings. Drinking games arent commmon here, but they were immediatly a hit! Culture at its best!

This AIESEC Conference was quite an interesting one, everything ran about two hours behind schedule and almost every event was dedicated to distributing awards. Dont get me wrong, recognition is a great thing, but I think there is a limit. When only 3 Local Committees exist, it kind of seems like over kill when there are about 10 or 15 awards, which all seem to recognize the same things and go to the exact same people (for example awards for being dynamic in promoting exchange and the awards for ingenuity in promoting exchange). Oh well, to each their own, I know I wouldnt mind a trophy here and there either.

Following the multiple awards ceremonies, nothing was planned and we werent able to play music and have a dance at night. In the confusion that followed, some wanted to go to the clubs, some wanted to stay, and others just became very frustrated with the lack of organization and decisive action. Then someone asked me…Matt, do you know any drinking games?…The magic words to my ears.

I had been waiting to play a drinking game since I arrived here, I hadnt realised how important this social activity  was to me. But some problems remained. We had no alcohol, most places to buy it were closed, things were still madly disorganized, and I was picking up on a bit of a downer vibe. Now Ive been in this situation before, and Im sure a few of you  would recognize my determined face and attitude when I decide to make things happen.

I put in 2000 francs..which here is a good chunk of change, but actually is worth about four Canadian dollars. I then found a trustworthy fellow to go on a booze mission and I immediatly set to work trying to liven things up. In the end, I shared one 26er of orange liquour and a bottle of coke with about 25 people. Sure this quantity of alcohol didnt have the same bodily effects that would result from a typical drinking game, but it was enough to have some good fun and bring things back to life. Thats the funny thing about drinking games, its very psychological. No one wanted to play with anything but alcohol, but when we actually played no one received more than one shot and therefore remained quite sober. Yet just knowing that the booze was there made all the difference! Good times were had, and who knows, maybe Ive added a whole new dimension to partying in Cameroon? Well, one can only hope!