The PC comes to town

24 hours of travel comprised of three flights (one of which was hit in a lightning storm!), 2 vaccines (coupled with the near dozen that we’ve already had), a crash course on what exactly business casual attire is (the Peace Corps is OBSESSED with business casual), and I’m here! Bienvenue au Cameroon—that’s welcome to Cameroon for those of you that don’t speak the French…

I can’t believe I’m in Africa! The past four days have been a total blur full of paperwork, another one of the PC’s obsessions, shots, and introductions. The PC headquarters are located in the capital, Yaounde, but I can’t exactly tell you what Yaounde looks like because we’re sort of caged animals right now. The beginning of my African adventure is a little more like a circus than the wild African safari I was hoping for. But a good circus, nonetheless. I’m just waiting for when they release the animals!

Wake ups are at 6:30, breakfast at 6:45, and at training by 7:15 (read: 8ish—African time…). Because we’re so close to the equator there’s daylight from 6 to 6, so I’m going to have to tame my wild party girl side (read: thank god I get to go to bed around eight!). The food has been fantastic so far—carbohydrates and I agree like Sonny and Cher prior to the whole tree incident. Who knew that rice, bread, and potatoes went together so well! I’ve discovered a deadly Cameroonian hot sauce, piment, so I’m looking forward to a new spice in my life.

My training group is 42 strong—20 health volunteers, and 22 agro-forestry volunteers. We’re 20%ish guys, and 80%ish girls. Two married guys, one lovely gent whose 63…so that’s makes us about 15% gents. I don’t think my chances of snagging the one are in my favor... I love the diversity of my group—not racial diversity we’re like 99% white. Everyone is coming from such different places and experiences. There’s a fair amount of people in agro-forestry who have masters in forestry, horticulture, botany, and the like, so I really feel like I’m going to bring a lot to the table (read: INTENSE sarcasm).

Those the days are intense (read: I played cards for five hours yesterday), the nights seem to be filled with mellowness. Beer is good, hard liquor comes in the packet variety, literally plastic baggies of shots, and the company the perfect complement to it all. Tonight they arranged for a rasta group to come and play music for us. The night ended with a spectacular lightning storm, and the pitter-patter of rain. As the musicians sang and danced, seemingly oblivious to the rain, I couldn’t help but think that this is the way a night is supposed to end. As I snuck out of the concert, hoping to catch a brief moment of alone time, the lights went out. Such is life in Cameroon, n’est pas?