Journey to Yaounde

9/23/11

I don’t even know where to start. I’m sitting on this scratchy coverlet in a small dingy hotel room in Cameroon, pleasantly surprised by the AC unit, running water (both warm and cold), a toilet (granted, there’s no toilet seat) and a TV. I’m surprised that I’m surprised. The last few days have been a complete whirlwind. As I sit here and try to write, I realize how fuzzy my head is and how few words I have to explain my emotions or mental state.

On Wednesday morning, I left my aunts house with her and my sister, headed to the Union Station to catch a train to Philly. My sister brought me into the train station, and escorted me onto the train. As I said my last physical goodbye, I became a freaking tearwork factory, again. I don’t think I’ve ever cried as much as I have in these past weeks. Saying goodbye over and over again to so many people whom I love… I don’t even have the words to describe how disheartened I was. Ugg, I’m not even going to dwell on this. There are so many positives to get to, I just don’t have the heart to dredge this up right now.

So, on the train I am, reading the manual I was supposed to have read months ago, learning about policies and benefits when I realized how right this feels. Granted I have no idea what I’m getting into, but I feel like this is what I should be doing and I love that feeling. (disclaimer: if you don't believe in a higher power, skip to the next paragraph). All summer, I've been feeling like God has been trying to communicate with me about this post. For example, the whole Turkmenistan debacle and cancellation. Also, I read a lot this summer, randomly picking up books without looking at the synopsis and with no order whatsoever. 3/10 books were biographies about people growing up in Africa and the horrors they witnessed. WTF. Anyways, there were tons of little (and big) nuances that led me to believe God wants my attention on Africa right now, and then this feeling of right overwhelmed me on the train. I am so grateful to have him so close to me, hopefully blessing my adventures. 

Arrival at the hotel in Philly was easy, although at this point I was beginning to regret how much I had packed, regardless of the fact that I was pretty sure I could not have gotten rid of anything else. I got to the taxi stand carrying a huge duffle in my hand, a small but extremely heavy duffle in my other hand with a purse full of food (including spilled chinese food which I still smell when I take out that purse), a cavas bag full of books for gifts, and my backpack hanging off my person. No, I didn't walk with this for long, I had help (Thanks, Andrea!).

 I walked up to training feeling extremely apprehensive. I hadn’t slept well the night before. What if I didn’t have enough energy to meet new friends? What if I pulled some stupid weird stunt, or said something so strange that people wrote me off right away? I was so afraid that in the first few minutes I would lose all hope of having friends to be with and turn to during the next two years. I was so off base. Everyone was so friendly. Many people have asked me before what the best of MIT was, and every time I could answer: the people.

Again, I find myself surrounded by marvelous, talented, intelligent people with drive and empathy. Many of the people are working on their masters degrees through a joint program. Many of them just graduated college. Some of them have awesome experiences, like a nurse, or a Zumba instructor, or a camp counselor. Bottom line: great freaking people. If anything could have made me feel like this was more right, it was the people. So we trained, and we ate, and we learned about each other and had fun. We were officially inducted as Peace Corps Trainees. 

Thursday morning came and found the Marriot lobby overtaken by dozens of Peace Corps Trainees and their hordes of luggage. We piled onto buses and headed to the airports.

I’m taking a break from this narrative. This entire week, my inner monologue has been of “lasts”. This is my last cheeseburger, my last string cheese, my last bagel, my last warm shower, my last time using a western toilet. There are an infinite number of lasts. Lets just say, I probably gained 5 pounds this last week just stuffing my face with foods that I love using a “last” excuse. Anyways, waiting around in the airport, we got a lot of “lasts”, my particular favorite being my last McFlurry.

After waiting around the airport for hours, the final hour came. It was time for lasts goodbyes. Our party dispersed and 45 of us tried to find privacy around the terminal to call our families and friends. I got a few good “last” calls in. But every time I hung up, tears were streaming down my face. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone with similar reactions. I felt alone and isolated, scared and frustrated, and sad. As I walked down the gangplank to the plane, I stopped focusing on what I was leaving behind and tried focusing on what was to come. It left me a poor conversationalist, but I was feeling better. I left my sadness behind in America, as our wheels left American soil, for the time being anyways.

So JFK to Brussels, for a nice long layover. During this time, a giant starbucks poster hung over our heads, beckoning with good coffee while a giant gate kept us from feeding our caffeine addictions. Finally we boarded for our second 6.5 hour flight. As soon as the doors closed, I was hit by a powerful smell. I can’t really explain it, but lets just say it was similar to a sweaty gym locker smell. I guess, this was my first introduction to the smells of Africa. Needless to say I got over it as well as I could, slept a few winks and in no time at all, we were landing in Yaounde, the capital of Cameroon.

Interesting sidenote: Also in my group is Sophie (Katie she is one of the girls from Tufts), who was also supposed to go to Turkmenistan. Not surprisingly, we sat together on the plane from Brussels to Yaounde, 20+ rows from the rest of the PCT's (Peace Corps Trainees). Interestingly, again, I could see God's hand playing in my life and I heard her horror stories of not being added to mailing lists (that I had been added to) or hearing about immunizations (that I had heard about and taken care of) and obviously botched travel papers that were done quickly and with her name completely misspelled (again, I had no such problem). We were both switched from the exact same program at the exact same time.... Just something else for me to ponder. 

Looking out the airplane window, all I saw was green. Green trees and fields speckled here and there with larger cities. I could just imagine monkeys swinging from the green vines that I saw. It was gorgeous.

We were met in the aiport by our Country Director, Lahoma, waving a Peace Corps sign and wearing a shawl of Peace Corps material. Here in Cameroon, fabrics are a big deal. Whole outfits are made of one fabric, often a very busy and colorful one. Everyone who came to pick us up had this material as some article of clothing, a dress, shirt, ect. Everything was extremely efficient as we were helped without bags and headed toward the exit. Here we saw a little of Cameroon. We were told to put our bags in front of us, wearing our backpacks on our stomach as we were hearded into buses. Outside, people were lined up, watching us as we loaded our stuff into Peace Corps vans that would go ahead of us. Nothing happened, but it was an interesting first taste of the vigilance we'll have to exercise every day.

This is wear it got fun. Buses in Cameroon aren’t like buses at home. They are often in a much poorer condition and always extremely packed. We fit 27 people in a bus that probably at home would have been an 18-20 person van, and that was nothing compared to how Cameroonians do it. 

From there we embarked on the 45 minute drive to our hotel. We passed goats, huts, grand houses, naked children, mice, porcupines, palm trees, banana trees, a grocery market and stalls of cooking goat meat. I wish I could explain to you the amazingness, the beauty, and the absolute poverty that we witnessed. But as I write this, I’ve been up for days, I’m exhausted and simply out of words. There will be more time for updates later, but for now, sleep. Training starts at 7:30 am!