A Day in the Life

This morning, I woke up when the mothers began cooking in the kitchen outside my bedroom. They clang pots and pans and shout at their children to bring this, wash that, and generally make a lot of noise. Power has also just returned to village after a month hiatus, and people are happy to begin blaring their music at 6:00am. By 6:30am I finally accepted the fact I would not be able to fall back asleep, and I should just get up (this battle occurs nearly every morning). I had work to do for my water project, and had to go to the nearby town of Tombel to purchase some materials. I went out to find a bike rider to drive me. I saw several, all of whom were eating at the local “chop mamas,” women who serve food out of coolers at little roadside shacks. I approached them and asked if any would take me to Tombel. All of them said no. This I will never understand. Why are you a bike rider if you refuse to take me where I need to go? Where I am paying you to go? It’s your job! It is what you have decided to do as a career! I pleaded with some of them. No, none of them wanted to go to Tombel. I went to wait at the health center for a bit and played with babies. Then I tried again. I new rider had arrived, and he was willing to take me. I climbed onto the motorcycle and off we went… for two hours. After the two hour motorcycle ride, I arrived in Tombel. There is another PCV who lives in Tombel, and she said I could stay at her house while I was in town. I go to her house and discover a random Cameroonian man inside. I call her. She has hired a man to look after her dog, and he has apparently interpreted her dog-sitting invitation as a house-sitting invitation as well. I drop my things off and say hello to the man. I then go out on my mission: to buy an empty propane tank, which will be used in the pump system. I go to the first store and ask for one. We cannot sell them empty anymore, the man tells me. I ask if he knows of another shop that is still willing to sell the empty bottles. “You cannot find them in Tombel,” he replies. While a bit daunting, I have learned never to take what someone says as the definite truth in this country, until you have explored every aspect yourself. So I went to the next store. No. Next. No. Starting to possibly believe him…. Next. Yes. I buy the bottle. Now, I have to get someone to weld iron rods onto it. The things I do in Cameroon. And strangely enough, I actually know a welder. He is also a driver and has transported materials for me already. I take the propane bottle to him and he fixes some iron rods onto it, no problem! I’m now done with the things I came to do. I decide to go to the tailor and order some clothes. I have been holding onto some fabric for a while, but have not had anything made out of it. I bring it to the tailor. She takes my measurements, I make a few sketches of what I want, and then I go. I come home and the man is still there. He is taking a nap in the spare bedroom. Power has gone out and I’m a bit bored, but since my friend is away I’m not sure what to do. I decide to go get some dinner. I walk out of the house and pass a bar, and who is there but the welder! “Allely, come buy me a drink!” This is not a rude thing to say here, people are always asking for you to buy them drinks, and it is just as appropriate for you to ask the same of them. I normally try not to buy drinks for people, however, but he had definitely done me a big favor today, so I accept. I sit down and have a drink with my friend the welder. Where else would this happen? He then goes and buys fried pork from a roadside stand with plantains and brings it back for us to eat. I eat my dinner and then go home to go to bed. And that’s the end to a day of my life here.