October 11, 2003
Another month, another notch closer to retiring my belt...
Three weeks ago, I took another volunteer's advice and ventured out to the Catholic Church for 9 am Sunday mass. What better way to become integrated in the community? Upon arriving, I saw the procession approaching the door and rushed inside to find a seat before the rite started. A cursory glance around myself revealed that I was surrounded by women (on the left side of the church). I stood up and dashed across the aisle, nearly stumbling to the floor, to secure a seat among the men (right side of the church). As all eyes were then gazing upon my person, there might as well have been a man in the church armed with a megaphone calling out, “Your attention please! There is a white man in the church!”
You could call it the Fishbowl Phenomenon. When I make the voyage from Ndélélé to Bertoua (8 hours yesterday), I am offered the front seat, usually reserved for military and government people. On special occasions, I'm regarded as the equal of my principal. I play Scrabble and watch European soccer (on satellite TV) with the highest-ranking government official for 50 kilometers. And last weekend, when I played soccer as part of the teachers’ team, every time I touched the ball the crowd erupted in a frenzy.
It all fits into the list composed by my fellow Peace Corps volunteers of the top 3 professions in the world:
1. Rock Star
2. Professional Athlete
3. Peace Corps Volunteer
While, at $300 per month, we are decidedly are lacking in the “fortune” aspect, the “fame” is like nothing I've ever known.
And as with any position of notoriety, there comes the phenomenon of (for lack of a better term) “groupies.” Arguably, any volunteer here could have his or her pick of any Cameroonian, all of whom dream of coming to America. As Country Director Robert Strauss explained to us upon our arrival in Cameroon, “You have entered a candy store.” I must admit that Cameroonian women are in fact quite beautiful. As another guy put it in training, “This is a candy store. And the candy looks good.” (Cameroon actually leads the Peace Corps in volunteer marriages to host country nationals.)
Which brings me to my third week in Ndélélé. I come home to find a note under my door. “It's been two weeks since I could last sleep ... my life depends on you ...” Signed, “une amie.” The line between “groupie” and “stalker,” it turns out, is thin. Two days later, another note: “I cannot take it any longer ... I nearly fainted when I saw you carrying your bucket of water this morning ... We must meet, but not in town. I have drawn a map, meet me 1 kilometer outside of town at 4 o'clock ... P.S. Excuse the rudimentary drawing, I was never very good at art.” Candy store, indeed. The candy even draws maps and leaves notes (and apologizes for lack of artistic ability!).
To balance the humor of this situation, I should also say that Cameroon, like most of Sub-Saharan Africa, has an alarmingly high HIV infection rate - 1 in 8 people. And the East Province in particular has the highest average in the country. In Garoua-Boulaï, on the border with Central African Republic, it's 3 out of 5. Most unfortunate of all, Peace Corps Cameroon also has the highest number of volunteer HIV infections - 5 people since the early 1990’s. And it's these sobering facts that reinforce my determination to use our Teach English/Prevent AIDS curriculum in the classroom, because such things must change if Cameroon is to move beyond its status of “developing country.”
Today, however, I'm enjoying the company of my province-mates and relaxing in a newly bought pair of jelly sandals. $4 on the street. (For those of you who missed out on the fad at the time, I would refer you to the first scene in the Big Lebowski when the Dude is wandering through Ralph's with half and half.) And that image wraps it up for this month. (Aside from the image of my groupie, waiting 1 kilometer outside of town at 4 o’clock only to have her savior not show up.)