Thank you, Cameroon

This has been the most incredible experience of my life, without any doubt. I am so glad, so fortunate, to have had this opportunity. I am incredibly thankful to Cameroon, and all the phenomenal people in Muambong in particular, for hosting me for the past two and a half years. Thank you for enriching my life, helping me grow, and teaching me about what is important in life. You have made me truly happy.

Things Cameroon Has Taught me:

1. Do things that make you happy.

            You are in charge of your own happiness. Life is short and it’s silly to waste it wondering what will happen next, worrying over nothing, or being stressed out. Don’t waste time on things you don’t like. Don’t let inconsequential things upset you. Don’t drag yourself down. Keep a positive attitude and make your own happiness. Appreciate what you have. Take awe in the little beauties in the world. Find what fulfills you, and do it. Embrace and carry out whatever it is that fulfills you. Simply, do things that make you happy.

2. That luxuries are just that—luxuries, not necessities.

We get caught up with so many things that we think we need, but in reality we can get by on very little. We become so dependent on material things that while helpful, are not truly necessary, and suddenly we don’t know how to function without them. Electricity, running water, your own car, dishwashers, phones, internet. All great things, but in reality, they are so easy to live without. In fact, many of these so-called luxuries actually become stressors in our lives, and sometimes, believe it or not, life can be a whole lot simpler when they go away.

3. Discovering what is truly important in life.

             It’s not how many things you own or the newest gadget, it’s not the square footage of your house or the size of your salary. It’s the connections you make, the people you interact with, and what you do. You don’t need things to be happy. It’s something you hear a lot, but something I had never truly seen in action before. People here actually focus on what is important in life instead of running around trying to make money. And guess what? They’re happier than any other people I’ve known. People here value family, relaxing with friends, and simply enjoying life.  They live in the moment and cherish what they have. They have a lot less to be thankful for, in some ways, than their American counterparts, but they are happier (whether in spite of or because of, I’m still not sure). They understand what matters in life. At the end of the day, the things that are important are not things, but people. Your family, your friends, and taking the time to enjoy them.

4. How to stay positive and make the most of a situation. Adaptability and patience.

            So you just walked for an hour to have a meeting and no one is there. So you have to sit around for the whole morning because the bus is delayed. So it takes an entire day to send one email. So what? What does that really matter? Instead of worrying so much about what comes next, enjoy what is happening now. Time is not what is so important, but what you do with your time. Enjoy it. You can stress that your bus is an hour late or you can pass the time sitting with strangers and have a good time. Patience. Life is short. Appreciate it. Prosper in it.

5. How to be comfortable in your own skin. You are who you are.

            I have always been confident in who I am, but I have never before been so blunt about showing it to others or felt so accepted. I cannot hide here. I am a small white girl and everyone knows it. There is no point in trying to conceal anything or trying to alter myself. I don’t wear makeup, I don’t wear fancy clothes, I don’t try to modify my behavior or my opinions. I don’t try to fit in, because I know I never can. And yet, I am so incredibly accepted here. People see past flaws, past appearances. People love me for who I am, truly. Don’t be afraid to show who you are. Be you.

6.     How to say no and how to assert yourself.

     Saying no can be hard. It can also be very important. I have become very good at saying no— whether it’s to the stranger on the bus who wants my number, the village who wants me to give them a bulldozer, or the chief who wants me to take him to America. I have learned how to assert myself and even further, how to voice my own needs. I know when to challenge someone else’s idea, how to stick up for my own beliefs and opinions, and how to ask for help when I need it.

7. How to laugh it off. Don’t let it get to you.

Sometimes you need to fight and defend yourself, other times it’s better to just let it go. Sometimes, it’s not worth it. You have the choice to let it get to you. You can get frustrated and angry, or you can chose to be positive. When your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere because the driver didn’t put in enough gas, when someone yells “whiteman” at you, or when the grown man mocks your accent, you can decide that it doesn’t really matter. Everything is easier when you’re happier. Learn to laugh at yourself and the situation. If you choose to take things lightly and not get worked up and go about with a positive attitude, things work out easier and better for you.      

                 

8. How to love. We are together. Take care of one another.

            People here are more connected to one another. Their connections are deeper, purer, and reach wider. They love everyone. They recognize that we are all humans, and that as such, we are together. We are one, and we must take care of one another accordingly. They welcome people into their communities openly, they feed anyone who comes to their door, they share money, they lend a helping hand, and they support each other. They don’t think individualistically, they think about everyone together. Their hospitality does not end at their own community. They love everyone and know how to truly care about one another. I have been welcomed with open arms and have been loved and supported by an entire community. It is indescribable and unlike anything I have experienced before. Truly an entire town loves me. People I barely know have risked their lives for me, have fed me, have looked out for me, have sheltered me, have taught me, have shared what little they have with me. I have learned a lot about what it means to love and what it means to take care of others, and that that love should be extended to everyone.

9. How to be someone worth caring about.

            In receiving so much care and support, I have also learned how to be someone worth caring about. To be grateful, to care about others in return. To take the time to create those relationships. To be friendly and interested, to think past one’s own self. To help, to listen. To be kind. It’s a two way street; in order for someone to care about you, you have to care about them. I have learned how to deserve their love.

10. How to be strong. Almost nothing can get to me.

            I have lived a lifetime in two years. I have encountered and experienced and dealt with things I never knew existed until now. I have pushed myself to the limit of my abilities, grown and adapted, learned, and thrived. I can face challenges in stride. I have been through a court case, I have seen the deaths of close friends, I have been exposed to pain and suffering, I have dealt with the hardships of life, I have challenged tradition and customs, I have faced sexism, I have worked with impossible people on impossible projects, I have learned, in short, how to be tough. I have discovered that I can get through it. I am more capable than I ever imagined. Bring it on.

11. Don’t wait.

            Take advantage of every opportunity you get. You never know what will happen next, so make the most of the moment. Whether it’s charging your batteries, filling your water filter, or visiting your friend, don’t wait. Do things when you have the chance—you never know if you will have the opportunity later. 

Comments that Raise Concern:

After doing the very simple procedure of changing a light bulb and your neighbor goes, “Hey! This girl does not fear electricity-o! I say!” Uh…should I not be doing this in the future?

Having your counterpart tell you, “You are a very good boy! You are a good boy!” …I’m a girl…you know that, right?

“I have prepared rat mole for you!”

Having your motorcycle rider tell you, “My bike does not have any brakes. That is why I keep asking you to get off when we go down hills.”

When the cab driver opens his door to shoo something out and someone asks, “A mosquito?” And he responds, “No, a small scorpion.”

“I dreamt about you last night. Cameroon was suiting you fine! You were pregnant.”

“It’s good to carry a stick when it’s sunny like this so you can kill the snakes” Uhh, I’ve been walking this path for over a year… why has no one warned me before today?

“Baby, you have no shame.” Said to a literal baby, who is still one year old.

“You look funny.” Would you care to qualify that? What exactly looks funny? Was it necessary to tell me?

“You will not leave this place. You will marry here. You will stay forever.” 

The Last Week

My last week at post has been hectic and turbulent, with a lot of mixed emotions. I had to say goodbye to the people, the place, and Peace Corps. This post is almost as chaotic as my week, but here it is.

 I was overfed in the extreme, and only had to prepare one meal for myself in the entire week. People were bringing over food at all hours of the day, trying to get me my last beans or ndolé or corn chaff. Someone would deliver a container of food (enough to feed probably five people) and then a few hours later, someone else would deliver another container of food. I was forcing myself to eat. I also had an endless supply of drinks. Seriously, endless. Every time I left my house someone wanted to buy me a drink. Eventually I started to just stay inside.

I was also trying to pack, which was not made any easier by my addiction to getting clothes made in this country. I had around 20 items of clothing made by my tailor, who worked incredibly hard to get everything done in time. It’s probably for the best I’m leaving so that I can’t order any more clothes.

I had to say goodbye to everyone, which was no easy task. I got choked up trying to say goodbye to some of my closest friends and people who have become like mothers or fathers to me. During the last few days many of my favorite kids came over to visit me. One of them told me, “Auntie Allely do not go.” I told her I was sorry, but it was time for me to return home. I said I would try to come and visit in a few years, maybe 2 years, maybe 5 years, and she responded, “It should be two years.” Similarly, I was informed by my counterpart that I was supposed to come and visit within two years and that I should have a husband and two kids (specifically one boy and one girl) when I came to visit.

On top of all of that, I was still trying to get everything set with the water projects. My days were also spent rushing around between Nzimbeng and Akid putting things into order.

In between my running around, I also had the opportunity to see one last baby delivered at the health center. On my last day at post, my friend’s wife went into labor and gave birth to a beautiful girl. They named her Nzelle Allely as a tribute to me and I could not be more honored.

My last night in village, I gave the neighborhood children glow sticks as a goodbye present and caused absolute mayhem. The kids had never seen glow sticks before and were enchanted by them. I gave out three and within 10 minutes I had a gang of kids, some of them even from the next village over, begging for more. I gave out around 60 glow sticks and could then see them floating up and down the street as the children ran around.

On my last morning, all the motorcycle riders came to pick up my things and tie them to the bikes. It took three of them to transport me and my luggage out of the village. All the children and all of my nearby neighbors came out and gathered at my house to see me off.

It has been an incredible experience. I have lived without hot water. I have lived without a refrigerator. I have lived without access to internet. I have lived without cell phone service. I have lived without reliable electricity. And yet, I have truly lived and I have found happiness.

I have built two water systems, given out over 450 pairs of reading glasses, taught nutrition lessons to 221 students and 268 community members, given medication and education to over 226 epilepsy patients, taught 17 motorcycle riders about alcohol and HIV, reached hundreds of people about malaria, conducted a pen pal program for elementary school students, climbed a 13,300 foot mountain, gained countless friends, been given a plot of land, had a river named after me, had a baby named after me, been named the mother of the village, and have fallen in love with a country and its people. 

Send-Off Party

All of Muambong was involved in my going away party, called a send-off party here, and it was certainly a big event! To give you an idea of the size, my fellow PCV stated it was “more attended than a Beyoncé concert.” Literally all of my village came out for the event. We started things off by respecting the proper protocal. I waited at my house until the Clanhead came to get me. 

Then we walked along the road in a procession lead by the Clanhead to the event hall (aka the health center), where we were seated at the high table (the table reserved for “big men” and other notables). Then there were several speeches given by the Clanhead and several other chiefs, thanking me and wishing me well, and reminding me to greet my parents upon my return. There were also several dismayed comments relating to the fact that I have not married a Cameroonian. From there, we moved on to food and drink. The women in my party prepared food all day the day before, including ndolé, black soup, corn chaff, chicken, and a goat. Yes, we slaughtered a goat. That was rather gruesome, but the meat was delicious. 

In addition to my own group of women preparing food, each village prepared its own food and brought it to the event. The result: an excessive amount of food and palm wine. 

There was enough to feed all attendees from all 14 villages. People were squeezed into the health center and scattered all over the yard and street. After the official event, the party continued in the bars and clubs. It turned into a massive village dance, and after each song there was chorus of “Allely hoyay!” (a celebratory salute) and “Auntie Allely!” I certainly felt appreciated and absolutely had a blast. I will really miss my village and everyone I have met here. 

Food Demonstrations

Elizabeth and I finally got around to doing food demonstrations with some local women. I have worked on nutrition before and have found that it is a real problem in Cameroon. People do not often eat the right proportions of food and focus on starch-heavy diets. We are trying to promote balanced meals and fresh vegetables. Food culture here includes a lot of boiling, often for hours, removing a lot of the nutrients from the vegetables. Elizabeth and I therefore chose to do some cooking lessons to promote improved diets. We attended a women’s group meeting and taught them how to make salad, vegetable soup, and grilled green beans. We shredded cabbage and cut up tomatoes and carrots and put hardboiled eggs into the salad and created a vinaigrette dressing. I told the women they could even eat tomatoes raw and had them try some wedges. They thought that was absolutely hilarious and I don’t think any of them will ever do it again, but the salad was a bigger success. 

Those women chowed down! They loved the dressing and were happy that it didn’t include mayonnaise (commonly used here) as it was “more economical.” Even the kids came in to eat the salad. And, two weeks later, three of the women who had attended our meeting prepared salads on their own and invited us over to eat them! Success! We also made a simple vegetable soup. The idea here was that it is similar to their other foods but that they would not end up throwing out the water (and the nutrients with it). The women also loved this. We put in cabbage, carrots, potatoes, green beans, and a few other random items. We cooked in a traditional kitchen over an open fire, which really pleased the group. “This African woman!” was shouted a lot. We finished the lesson by preparing the green beans, which were very tasty, but not as much of a success as the other dishes. Apparently lightly cooked greens are just too different from the local food. The women tasted it and ate it, but they were not gone and people weren’t fighting over who got to eat what as they did with the other meals. 

Final Update for Nzimbeng

The water project in Nzimbeng is also (mostly) finished! They have completed building the storage tank and filter and last weekend they finished digging and we connected all the pipeline and built stand taps. 

Unfortunately, the catchment the local technician built at the river was not quite what the engineer had designed. The engineer will come out to see if it will still work or if modifications or rebuilding are necessary. Aside from that hitch, however, the system is complete and ready to go! The Nzimbeng people have been incredibly motivated and hardworking. They are so thankful for the chance to have water. They are eager to have everything working and are doing everything in their power to get it to that point. I would like to thank everyone who contributed to the project—we are all very grateful. 

The Nimbeng people showed their thanks to me by messages into the concrete and by giving a gorgeous handcrafted statue. The statue depicts community members rising up a central figure to show how the community came together to support me and lift me up. 

I am so happy for them and cannot wait for them to have a functional system! While I will not see the end of this project, my replacement volunteer is more than ready to take over, and I know she will help them succeed getting water. 

Final Update for Akid

Akid’s water project has (mostly) finished! We have spent the past several weeks putting on the final touches. We connected all of the pipeline, finished constructing the filter, and built stand taps. 

We started the pump and the water reached the filter, but unfortunately the pump stopped. We are having the engineer come out to inspect it to determine the problem, but after that, hopefully it will be a fully operational water system! Thank you to everyone who donated to the project and made this system possible! The people of Akid are beyond happy, and I am incredibly grateful to you for giving me the chance to help this wonderful village.

And I really do mean wonderful. In order to celebrate the close of my service, the people of Akid threw an incredible party! First, they made me a matching outfit with the chief (a traditional cabbah and jumper). 

Then, they created a feast with chicken and rice (both big honors) and lots of wine and drinks. They didn’t stop there. They had a local man carve several traditional wooden dishes for me. They are absolutely beautiful and simply an enormous gesture from the community. 

They wrote a heartfelt speech, causing me to cry, (and causing several grown men to cry as well). They finished the day by giving me a plot of land. I am supposed to build my house here within a year. Thank you Akid. 

Water Projects

Both of the water projects have picked up speed and seem to be nearing completion. Or at least I sure hope so. After months of delays and other hitches, it looks like we might actually have come out on top. This past week I divided my time between Nzimbeng and Akid, spending the nights in village to oversee the work.

The Nzimbeng people have been incredibly hardworking and motivated. They have finished the storage tank and are in the process of constructing the filters and catchment. They have been carrying materials, cracking stones, collecting sand, and digging pipeline. I’ve been very happy with their results so far. Hopefully the cement work will be finished within two more weeks and they can finish the digging and begin connecting pipeline. Its looks like we’re actually on schedule to finish by January. Of course, things on my end aren’t quite as smooth. I’ve been going back and forth between the village and my house, my house and a larger town to transport material, and have barely slept in my own bed the past week. The community does their best to welcome me, and my days in village generally aren’t too bad. I sit at the site watching the work, mostly there for moral support, while men cut up fresh pineapple for me and feed me. The other day I was literally sitting in the warm sun, reading my book, while men went into the bush beside the tank site and chopped up pineapples with their machetes for me to eat. Then I went back to my host’s house and was fed several meals. Not so rough. Sometimes I do pay the price however. For example, this past time I had to knowingly sleep in a bed that would give me bedbugs. To top it off, some sort of rat or animal had died in the bedroom during the day (but they couldn’t find the body) so the whole room reeked of decomposing meat. I had to just tough it out and enter the room and sleep encompassed in the smell of rotting carrion. But Peace Corps has increased my ingenuity, if nothing else, and so I simply smeared toothpaste under my nose (just like vick’s right?) before going to bed, and everything was fine.

The Akid project hasn’t been quite as smooth, but there have been fewer incidents of things dying in bedrooms, so at least that’s appreciated. The Akid community was disheartened after a few mishaps with the pump. A few pieces broke as it was being installed, and after that they became demoralized and didn’t want to work anymore. That has created some problems for me and has caused the project to last longer than necessary. However, the engineer came out this last weekend and finally installed the pump, so everything should work now. The people were happy to see things moving, and are now eager to work and the project should (theoretically) really take off. All that’s left is to connect pipeline and build the standtaps. They are saying they will finish by Christmas (which I rather doubt), but January seems like a reality. Additionally, this past weekend in Akid offered me the highlight of having a meal prepared for me exclusively by a man. That’s right, in my two years here, I have never had a man prepare food for me (unless I was paying someone—like the streetmeat men or omelet guys). I have been served many meals in Cameroon, but all of them have been prepared by women. That morning, a man cooked pancakes for me. Building water systems and breaking gender roles, one person at a time! Love it! Of course when we asked if he ever did this for his wife, he quickly said no. We’ll work on it. 

Nutrition in Schools

Elizabeth and I went to the local nursery school to do a follow-up nutrition screening of children under the age of five. When I first arrived in village, I checked children for signs of malnutrition, gather information on weight, arm circumference, and anemia. 

During that initial survey I found that a decent number of children were below their proper weight for age, many had low arm circumference, many were anemic, and many students reported low levels of protein, fruit, and vegetable intake. I then conducted nutrition lessons in the schools and within the community, educating 221 elementary school students and an additional 268 community members. I taught participants about balanced diets, proportion sizes, specific vitamins and minerals, and reviewed healthy meals made out of locally available foods. 

By doing this year’s screening, we were hoping to discover if that education made any difference. I’m happy to report that the children’s health has improved. Whether its due to our efforts and lessons is hard to say, but at least there has been a vast improvement in healthy weight and dramatically less cases of anemia. We still find that children are not eating enough fruit, so we plan to do further cooking demonstrations and are going to try to get the nursery school to start a snack program where they will provide fruit to students. 

Lost Cat

As if my latest display of spider killing was not embarrassing enough, we one-upped ourselves in the “How American Can We Be?” category two days after that incident. Elizabeth had found a kitten in one of the villages under our health district that she wanted to adopt. We spoke to the owner and he was ready to give it to her on the spot, but we were unprepared to take it home, so we asked him to drop it off at the house on the upcoming market day. Bright and early on Thursday, he showed up as promised, with a cat in a bag. The poor thing was clearly slightly traumatized from its trip in the bag and immediately ran for cover under the couch. We tried coaxing it out for a while, but eventually decided food would be the only thing to do the job. We went up to the market and got some food and a can of sardines for the cute little kitten. We poured the sardines into a bowl and then went out to find the cat. It wasn’t under the couch. We realized the door was open just a crack. We had been the proud owners of a cat for about two hours. We checked all over the house, looking under the bed, behind the bookshelf—everywhere—but came up empty. The cat had clearly escaped. We began to inform all of our neighbors. “We lost our cat, it ran out of the house,” we told them. To which they gave us blank stares, as if to say, “Yes, cats belong outside.” But they would kindly respond, “Oh, so sorry.” Still clearly thinking, “Crazy Americans, why would you even want a cat in your house?” Nevertheless, we continued to tell our friends that it was just a baby, we had just gotten it, it wouldn’t know to come back to this house, so if they saw it please return it or tell us. They were all very supportive and told us if they saw it, they would return it. We even got all the kids to go out and look around. The neighborhood was on high alert. Then, that evening, we heard meowing. We ran outside, looking all around the compound. Nothing. We asked our neighbor again, “Did you see that cat? Can you hear it too?” She responded, “Surely, it’s still in the house, it’s just hiding.” We told her no, we had really looked everywhere. But it really did sound like the meowing was inside… We did another check of the house, and there was the cat, under the bed. We had lost a cat that had never been lost, and “found” it again. It was not our proudest moment, but we were once again the proud owners of a cat. Now, when any of the multiple neighbors we informed ask if we found the cat, we just say yes and never mention that it was never lost in the first place. 

Spider Guts

I have seen my fair share of spiders in Cameroon. I have seen black widows, I have seen tarantulas, I have seen daddy long legs—and just about everything in between. It was no surprise to see the giant spider in the kitchen. But it was still gross. My postmate and I were sitting in the kitchen, eating cookies, when I spotted the spider sitting on the stool’s leg. It was one of those big, hairy ones, with a fat abdomen. It was roughly the size of a baseball with its legs included. Just chillin below our water filter. It looked disgusting and it looked like it could do some damage if it wanted to. We could not let it live. That was never an option. We began debating what to use to kill it. Our shoes were quickly removed as a possibility as that would require us to get far too close to the creature. It was in a bit of a confined space, being on the stool leg, so it was going to be a bit tricky to get the force and speed to kill it without it getting away. We finally decided on an empty plastic coke bottle. After hemming and hawing and making multiple “we are so grossed out” noises, I finally stepped up and into position. As I whacked the bottle into the spider’s location, two things happened simultaneously. First, the spider’s body went leaping off in the other direction, towards the wall—the thing just shot through the air. Second, something hit the back of my neck. As expected, this second occurrence took up most of my attention. I immediately slapped my hand to the back of my neck and wiped at what I had felt land there. When I pulled my hand away, I saw a brown goo. I then commenced the classic scream and dance. I began squirming around, shouting “get it off me, get it off me!” to Elizabeth. It was a scene straight out of the movies. Looking back, it’s hilarious. At the moment, it was very far from it. The best words I can use to describe my feelings at the time: absolute repulsion. It was disgusting to realize I had spider guts on the back of my neck. Of course, by realizing there were guts on my neck, I knew the spider must be dead, or at least mostly. But the fear that worried me was that there would be a half-living, angry, dying spider on my back, oozing guts as it sought to cling to life. I was also very confused as to how the guts ended up on my back, as it went against all laws of physics. I splatted a spider in front of me and its guts ended up not only behind me, but then 180 degrees around again, on the back of my neck. It made no sense. I was still trying to process all of this, while dancing around, but Elizabeth confirmed there was no spider on me. I didn’t fully trust her at first—if its guts could defy all possibilities, why couldn’t it? But eventually, she convinced me it was only its guts, which were also located in several other locations on my shirt. After I recovered from being beyond grossed-out (let me tell you—I do not like the feel of spider guts on my bare skin), we finally realized we hadn’t found the spider itself. We were pretty sure it was dead it its guts were all over me, but we had also seen it leaping off the other way. Thus ensued a manhunt, which was finally ended after several minutes when we found its head and deflated body. Incidentally, this was the day I decided I have been in Cameroon long enough and am really looking forward to coming home. 

Mosquito Net Distribution

Cameroon is in the process of distributing free insecticide-treated nets to its entire population. It’s not exactly an easy process, especially when you consider all of the normal difficulties of such a project and then try to have it carried out in Cameroon. In the South West region, the distribution was supposed to take place several months ago, for example, but had to be postponed because the cars could not deliver the nets to villages due to the road conditions. Also, the first company hired to distribute the nets ultimately refused to do the job. Eventually, however, the nets did arrive at our health center, and then we had to wait another month or two for every other health center in the region to receive their nets before we were allowed to give out our own. But, apparently as of several weeks ago, all hospitals received their nets because we were permitted to give them out! A census was done by community health representatives in the previous weeks to record how many people slept in a house and prescribe nets based on that number. The family was given a ticket, stating how many nets they should receive, and the following week, the family was supposed to come to the health center to turn in the receipt and collect their nets. It was a big day at the health center. 

Staff and volunteers were there to accept customers, record results, and distribute the nets. 

I gave several lectures about malaria and the importance of using mosquito nets, and health care workers demonstrated how to hang them. In all, we had four days of distribution and gave out nets to at least over 400 people on the two days I was involved. Most importantly, there was some pretty great style. 

Thanksgiving

I just spent my third Thanksgiving in Cameroon, and it was the best one yet! This year we got a group of volunteers together in the beautiful town of Bangem, which is nestled into the Menenguba Mountains, featuring twin crater lakes. We had quite the haul, from collective care packages, and a certain volunteer recently returned from a trip abroad. We therefore had brownies, cinnamon swirl cake, m&m cookies, pumpkin pie, chocolate pudding pie, stuffing, cranberry sauce, gravy, mashed potatoes, marshmallow yams, greenbeans, biscuits, salad (with ranch dressing!), quinoa, and hot wing sauce. Not necessarily your totally traditional Thanksgiving spread, but certainly better than anything we could imagine! 

We had a local mama make a chicken for us, and it turned out pretty great. To top it off, one of our favorite local Cameroonian beers was “winning” (Cameroon beer is owned by the Cameroonian government and its beers go through a cycle of offering customers the chance to win a free beer simply by looking under the bottle cap for the image of a beer, in order to promote beer sales, which is one of the few things that is taxed in Cameroon). We invited some Cameroonians over as well to participate, and while they did not enjoy all of the dishes, they clearly enjoyed some of them. We ended the weekend by hiking up to the lakes, hopefully burning off some of the Thanksgiving meal.