January 2, 2004
Government High School - Ndélélé. Saturday afternoon, 12:30 p.m. 11th grade make-up test.
VOICES FROM OUTSIDE: Snake! Snake!!
MR. BINDER: What's all the yelling outside?
STUDENT 1: Well, sir, it would appear some children see a snake.
MR. BINDER: A snake? Hmm, I haven't ever seen one here yet.
STUDENT 2: We should take a look, sir.
MR. BINDER: Hey, look, it's up on my bicycle.
STUDENT 1: No, don't approach it, sir! It's evil!
MR. BINDER: But it looks harmless...
STUDENT 2: It's a green mamba! (The deadliest snake in all of Africa!! … and the world!!!)
MR. BINDER: A green mamba?! Oh my God! It's coming right for me!!!
A flood of rocks come tumbling from the sky, battering the small, deadly snake until it shrivels up in the sun and hisses its last.
OK, I'll admit it's a dramatization, but this pretty much sums up my first African snake experience. Grateful, I am, since I may not have seen the snake before mounting my trusty Trek for the ride home...
All of us Peace Corps volunteers recently participated in our education in-service training on the Atlantic coast at the beach resort of Kribi. We were even afforded a breathtaking look at the newly finished platform/terminus of the Chad/Cameroon oil pipeline. It was a much-needed breath of fresh air. And the food, my God, the food! Shrimp, fish, real butter, and more vegetables than I could ever dream of. Hotel Paradise lived up to its name.
But Christmas was where the real adventure began. Sangmélima is the birth place of Cameroon's president Paul Biya (whose reelection is coming up next year) and aptly nicknamed "la belle." They have white fences, grass, and weekly trash pickup. Kind of surreal. After a cramped 4-people-in-the-back-of-a-Toyota-wagon 5-hour journey further south, into the heart of the jungle, we arrived at our destination: a chimpanzee rescue center.
Ernest, the center’s guesthouse worker, guided us down a path to the encampment. During the short 2 km walk, he talked a lot about his uncle, "the General," who owns the property and whose family name, had I inquired about it, may well have been Kurtz. Some chimpanzee-obsessed Cameroonian Marlon Brando. It was that bizarre. When we entered a clearing, we saw them in the distance: two young chimpanzees. And they came right for us. Or, not us, but right for Jennifer, the only girl of our group, and immediately scaled her legs to come to rest in her arms. This before anyone spoke a word.
It turns out the woman who runs the center is a French, and they mistook our American sister for her. (The smallest chimp, Tony, had to be peeled away from her two hours later as we went to leave.) And then the big guys came out. There were 8 in all, and after some tentative touching, we won them over. Water bottles fell from our arms as they wrestled their way up on our shoulders, hanging in strange positions and winning affection from us 6 strangers.
And then, it was amazing, as the chimps’ diabolical plan seemed to come to fruition... Several of them scooped up our precious bottles of filtered water, unscrewed the caps, and downed the contents! The resident canine, Commando, was having a great time wrestling with his ape brothers and sisters, and we took picture after picture after picture. It was, admittedly, one of the most spectacular Christmas experiences of my life.
Back in Sangmélima (only a harrowing 2-hour ride back, courtesy of the plantain-filled bed of a Jane Goodall Institute pick-up truck) the next day, we prepared Christmas dinner. I, of course, massacred another chicken for a spectacular chicken stew, and the others prepared garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing, and deviled eggs. New Year's was spent back in the East Province, dining on beef enchiladas with guacamole and salsa. And now I'm poised to return to Ndélélé for the next slice of the school year. My new postmate Katy, a health volunteer, will be working on HIV/AIDS education in Ndélélé and the smaller villages around it.
Oh yes, and Happy New Year!